When everything falls apart
by Flammy Spritz
Summary: After a drunken rumble, Draco is left heartbroken and pregnant.  When that goes wrong, he attempts to move on.  Several years later he's in St.Mungos.  Can Harry save the one he rejected back then?  Does he want to?  Full summary and warnings inside
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Warnings for this chapter: Alcohol? Lawl**

**Summary: **After a drunken one-night-stand, Draco is left heartbroken and pregnant. When that also goes wrong, he convinces himself that he's not right for Harry and attempts to move on again. Several years later, however, a terrible incident lands him in St. Mungo's, where Harry finds him. With the blonde pregnant and slipping into depression, can Harry save the man he rejected so many years ago? And will he want to? Drarry. Not Epilogue compliant

**Story Warnings**: explicit sex both hetero and homo, slash, gang rape, m!preg, et cetera et cetera.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters or creatures. I do not own the setting, locations, and world used in this story. I own only the plot. This is a work of fiction. It is not based on actual events. I do not condone rape of any sort.

**Alright guys. This is my first fanfic ever, so ….yeah xD Critique the heck outta it, but hey…. Be helpful and respectful about it hmm? Flames and trolling will be….either ignored or counter trolled lawl. **

**If all goes according to the nice little grid/table/chart I typed up, this will be 26 chapters long. Let's see how accurate I can get it**

**I've never actually been drunk, so I apologize for my horrid portrayal of a drunken Harry. **

**Hope you enjoy ~**

**- Flammy**

AoAoAoAoAo

The noise in the common room was unbearable. The beat pounded, washing over the loud chatter and clanking of glasses and other objects as bodies writhed in time to the sound, so distorted it could barely be considered music. The air was infused with the stench of sweat and alcohol as the portion of students contained within this room partied themselves to oblivion. Only one quiet and still body remained in the main area, as the rest had had the good sense to retreat to the more private bedchambers. The particular person in question was seated in an armchair, the size of which was so large that it veritably swallowed him. It was removed from the main bustle, instead placed inconspicuously in a corner, it's occupant just as inconspicuous as he slouched into it, elbows on his knees. His white-blonde head drooped down, face lost into his hands, and his shoulders slumped. Really, Draco Malfoy was not quite in the mindframe that was required to enjoy this party. Unfortunately, the particular room that his bed lay in was now in use by some Slytherin couple, engaged in activities that the young man would rather not witness. So instead he sat here, amidst the chaos and trying fruitlessly to tune it out.

It was not to happen though, as he found out a moment later when an errant body collided into the side of his seat, tilting it dangerously and causing him to tumble to the floor. Cursing everything, the blond stood and directed a glower at the offending individual before retreating further to the outskirts of the room. Fate would not let him be, however, as an inebriated Theodore Nott snagged onto his expensive sweater and, grinning toothily, offered him a large goblet, filled to the brim with some obnoxiously scented concoction that smelt equal parts truckload of pure sugar, bushels of tobacco, a wagonful of woefully saccharine flowers, and bucketfuls of vanilla. Draco wrinkled his nose at the offensive refreshment, but accepted it anyhow when his dubious face did not deter his overeager friend, sipping it gingerly and finding, to his surprise, that it was actually quite delectable. The aforementioned overeager friend then tried to engage Draco in drunken chatter about who-knew-what, and the blonde found himself immensely grateful when a giggling Pansy Parkinson latched herself onto the other man. Excusing himself, he hastily squirmed through the pandemonium to the exit of the common room, breathing a sigh of relief as he entered the cool, empty corridors of the dungeons without.

Sipping his drink as he went, the Slytherin began to pad down the empty corridors, allowing his mind to wander. He would not be able to return to the common room anytime soon if he wanted to keep his head, nor should he be heading near the Great Hall. Even though it was merely the first week back to the great school, there had already been more school wide parties at Hogwarts than the blonde cared to count. Of course, it was only to be expected, what with the whole wizarding world finally free of the threat of Voldemort. So the people partied. But of course, the Slytherins weren't really held in good trust at the moment, and so their parties tended to be separate from the others, confined to the common rooms as the least currently populated of the houses did not wish to find themselves at the mercy of drunken idiots who might take it upon themselves to teach the Slytherins a lesson. Of course, he was the biggest target from this particular house. And yet here he was, wandering about the school all by his lonesome on the night he knew that _everyone_ would be drunk. His lips quirked at the irony, before drooping again as he remembered why he was hated so much, remembered the ugly mark disfiguring his pale arm. He took another gulp of his drink, despondent now. He really ought to have been in Azkaban. The only thing that had saved him from the horrid prison was the Golden Boy himself, Harry Potter. Draco had been the most surprised when the saviour had stood in front of the Wizengamot and defended him for the wizarding world to see, telling them of how he was coerced into it, how he had saved their lives by refusing to identify the Gryffindor at Malfoy Manor, how he had been unable to murder Dumbledore in cold blood, how his family had been held hostage. How Potter had obtained these last tidbits of information was beyond him, but Draco was not complaining. The testimony, from the Saviour of the World, the Golden Boy himself, had been what got him off the hook for Azkaban, turning him loose with merely a month of house arrest and compulsory attendance to the repeated year at Hogwarts. Potter had vanished after the trial, although not before giving the Slytherin a strange look that Draco supposed was a glare attempting to masquerade as a friendly nod. After all, it would not do to glower at the person you had just selflessly defended now would it? Following that, Potter had taken to ignoring Draco completely. The blonde figured it had been the Golden Boy's hero complex that had caused him to show up at the trial at all, which that suited him just fine, for he hardly wished to speak to the spectacled freak anyhow. At least, that was what he had tried to convince himself of. In reality, hero-boy's actions at his trial had only served to fuell the spark of attraction Draco had always harboured, hidden away, into a little blaze that only grew steadily at all of his attempts to smother it.

Footsteps at the end of the corridor startled the Slytherin from his thoughts, and his hand flew immediately to his mother's wand that he kept tucked into his belt. Relief flooded him as no more than a couple of giggling first years rounded the corner, sobering immediately when they saw him and fixing him with a glare. Draco returned the glare with interest, adding a sneer for good measure, before hurrying away. When Hogwarts had reopened for its students, they had all been invited back to repeat the last year, as under Death Eater rule, not much had been taught that Hogwarts actually wanted learnt. This had, of course, resulted in twice as many first years as usual, as newbies had flooded to join the returning students. One could hardly go about the castle without bumping into one every five or so minutes. And on party nights like these…well, they all tended to get drunk, which was completely irresponsible of the older students and teachers in Draco's opinion. They would often stumble out of the Great Hall, and, empowered by intoxication, crowd these floors, hoping to catch a Slytherin and be a hero or whatever the hell they thought they were doing. Draco was not afraid of them, Merlin no, but it was an annoying inconvenience making sure they weren't trying to _Wingardium Leviosa _his hair out of place or something equally as horrid. Not to mention that his mother's wand didn't perform nearly as well as the Slytherin wished it would. With this in mind, he struck up a quick path to the higher floors, which were sure to be relatively devoid of people at this time of night. He also made a mental note to steal his original wand back from Potter at some point.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Harry lurched again. The world tilted dangerously, and only an automatic grip on the table saved him from falling over completely. As it was, he pulled on the tablecloth and managed to spill some alcohol, punch, and snacks all over. Laughing it off, he pushed himself upright, only to stagger backwards into a warm body. Hands quickly found his sides, steadying him, and he heard a familiar feminine voice asking, "Merlin Harry, are you quite all right? You're not drunk again are you?"

The boy hero turned his head, a bush of brown hair swimming slightly into focus. "Ah…Herro Hermyowneee" he slurred, petting her shoulder to assure her that he was clearly not drunk. A drunk person would have missed that shoulder after all.

Hermione's features rearranged into a partially disgusted frown as she looked her friend up and down. "You _are _drunk! Oh Harry-"

Whatever rant she had been about to start on was interrupted by a new voice, belonging to her boyfriend. "Oh lay off 'Mione! Harry here's a war hero! He killed old snake face! I think he deserves a drink….hell, he deserves to be drunk to!" The redhead punctuated his words with a toast of his bottle of Firewhiskey, aimed in Harry's general direction. Harry quickly retaliated, raising his own bottle and only just managing to skim Ron's. He counted it as a success as he brought the bottle back up to his lips, frowning when only a few drops fell into his awaiting mouth. After giving the unforthcoming bottle a few futile shakes, he discarded it to the already over laden table and picked up another bottle, this one full. Satisfied, he popped it open and was about to take a swig when a slim hand darted in and snatched it from under his nose. Hermione's cross voice followed right behind it.

"War hero or not, Harry, I think you've had quite enough to drink for one night. In fact, you ought to head up to the room right now. This is completely irresponsible, come along," she interrupted her rant by grabbing Harry's elbow and beginning to steer him out of the Hall. Harry immediately pulled away, not feeling up to being lectured all the way back to the common room.

"I can go on me own Hermyowneee…you you you…" he screwed up his face, trying to remember what he had been trying to say, "…Umm….you..you can stay with RonRon…yeah..tha's it.." He nodded earnestly upon seeing Hermione's sceptical face. "Really!"

Ron chose that moment to come to Harry's aid with a well placed "Don't smother him 'Mione, you know he hates that…" quietly into her ear.

The bushy haired witch sighed and huffed loudly, letting them all know that this was against her better judgement, before turning away with an 'Oh alright then'. Harry watched as she led Ron through the party, before turning and stumbling out of the Great Hall. There was no point in staying…if he knew 'Mione, which he did, she would be casting a suspicious eye about for him every five minutes for at least an hour…and then every ten minutes after that.

Deciding to cut his losses and head back for early retirement to the Gryffindor common room, Harry wobbled over to the stairs and began dragging himself up, using the hand railings more than the stairs themselves. He managed to make it all the way to the fifth floor before he felt his foot sink. Looking down, the Golden Boy saw that he had stepped into a trick stair. For some reason, this seemed inexplicably funny to the Gryffindor…he could defeat Voldemort but could not take on a stair? He found himself dissolving into giggles, leaning against the wall to support himself, until a soft cry of 'Oh Merlin!' interrupted him and caused him to look up. Standing there, silvery grey eyes wide, was Draco Malfoy.

Harry's eyes widened as well, as he gave the blonde Slytherin a quick once-over. Merlin but Malfoy was attractive. That's why he had been avoiding him all year. Only…no, that didn't make sense. Harry frowned to himself. Why on earth was he avoiding Malfoy when he should be trying to snog him senseless? That was ridiculous. Perhaps he had been Confunded. Yes, yes he had been confounded. But now he wasn't, and now he was going to kiss Draco Malfoy, Mind made up, Harry lurched forward, intent on snogging the breath out of the other. However, his foot, still caught in the trick step, pulled him back and he found himself falling instead, landing sprawled on the staircase at the blondes feet. Harry had a sudden urge to see those feet without the shoes and socks and grinned lewdly at them.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Draco wandered up the steps, lost to his thoughts. It really was nice in the castle when there was no one about, no one to tease or throw dirty looks at him. He felt at home like this. He felt safe. He felt….Potter? Was that Potter in front of him, foot ankle deep in a trick step and laughing hysterically against a wall?

"Oh Merlin!" The sound escaped him before he could stop it, and he immediately clamped his mouth shut, staring at Potter with wide eyes. Every nerve in him screamed to run, but he was paralyzed while the Gryffindor stared at him, no doubt formulating some horrid attack. Before either of them could make a move, however, Potter appeared to lose his balance and fall over, landing painfully on the stairs at his feet. Draco looked down at him, somewhat worried by his lack of reaction. The other was clearly drunk, but who knew if he was hurt as well? Common sense was screaming at Draco to just leave the Boy Wonder, save himself. But he couldn't just leave him. Potter had saved him from Azkaban, he reminded himself sternly, before stooping to catch the Golden Boy by his arms and lift him up.

"No funny business Potter," he ordered quietly, praying that the other would obey as he set about tugging the war hero's foot free. Potter, for his part, seemed to take Draco's words extremely seriously, and fell silent, staring at Draco with an intensity that utterly unnerved the blonde. It made him want to leave Harry to find his own way around, but if he did that…well, he may as well have left the boy stuck in the step and saved himself the trouble. Mustering up his meagre Slytherin courage, the blonde hefted the brunettes weight onto himself as much as possible, and began the long and tedious process of helping Harry up to his common room. He knew the way of course. Every Slytherin knew exactly where to find the other houses common rooms. None of them wanted to wind up alone too near any of them after all.

After what seemed like forever, but in reality could not have been longer than half an hour, he was panting outside a painting of a rather large woman in a garish pink dress, who was eyeing him suspiciously. "Password?" She asked, her tone clearly indicating that she knew he didn't know it, and that nothing would please her more than denying him entry. Draco frowned at that tone, before looking at Potter. The idiot was staring at him, a dopey grin on his face, obviously miles away. Letting out an annoyed, but dignified, huff, the blonde turned back to the obese woman, offering her a charming Malfoy smile.

"I'm afraid I don't have the password-" he began, only to be rudely interrupted.

"No password, no entry," she informed him coldly, her eyes glinting. Draco suppressed a sigh, his smile still carefully in place, as he gestured at Potter.

"The Saviour-" he tried again, and found himself cut off again.

"No _password_, no _entry_," she repeated in a hiss, leaning forward as much as a portrait can. Draco finally let his sigh through. He should have seen this coming. Dropping all airs and graces, he told her plainly,

"Look, he's drunk and can barely keep himself upright. Please just allow me to get him to bed!" He knew before he was finished, however, that it was no use. The large woman's face was getting colder and colder, and by the end of his little imploration he could almost feel the chill in the air. As she opened her mouth to rebuff him yet again, a different voice cut in.

"Twiddledumkins"

"I beg your pardon?" Draco stared at Potter, wondering what he was nattering on about this time. The Fat Lady, however, seemed to understand, for she pulled the ugliest stink face Draco had seen in his entire life before swinging forward to reveal a round hole. Groaning at the extremely inconveniently placed hole, Draco helped Potter through, having to almost lift the other off the ground and support most of his rather considerable weight. His muscle, the blond decided, whilst pleasing to look at was rather a pain.

A little crash alerted him that Potter had fallen through, and the blond quickly scrambled after him lest the irate portrait close on him.

"Don't know why I'm doing this" he groused, before hoisting Potter up and dragging him up to the 7th year dorms. "And you'd better be grateful you prat!" he warned him as he deposited the Golden Boy into his bed and turned away. Before he could leave, however, a hand closed around his wrist. Draco didn't even have the time to finish asking 'What are you doing?' before Potter pulled him almost on top of himself and pressed their lips together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Warnings for this chapter: Sex! Explicit man on man sex. If you are squeamish, please skip this chapter**

**Summary: **After a drunken one-night-stand, Draco is left heartbroken and pregnant. When that also goes wrong, he convinces himself that he's not right for Harry and attempts to move on again. Several years later, however, a terrible incident lands him in St. Mungo's, where Harry finds him. With the blonde pregnant and slipping into depression, can Harry save the man he rejected so many years ago? And will he want to? Drarry. Not Epilogue compliant

**Story Warnings**: explicit sex both hetero and homo, slash, gang rape, m!preg, et cetera et cetera.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters or creatures. I do not own the setting, locations, and world used in this story. I own only the plot. This is a work of fiction. It is not based on actual events. I do not condone rape of any sort.

**First of all, let me say I'M SORRY ;A; I honestly took way too long with this chapter…and I don't even have a reason! Just…this chapter was really hard for me to write…I guess I'm not cut out for sex scenes. It isn't even a good sex scene. Just one giant…big…chapter long…horrible sex scene oy vay. If you're uncomfortable with reading explicit sex, this story can be understood without this chapter. Ugh and I don't know what the heck happened to Harry's drunkness. Sorry, but as someone who has neither gotten drunk nor had sex…I didn't know how to make them work together OTL… sorry again.**

**I decided to add a few chapters to this story…26 was going to be it, but at the moment there is no real time for Harry and Draco to just be…so I think I may add a few for that. Probably up to 30**

**And sorry for any mistakes, this is unbeta'd …just point them out to me and I'll fix yes? ****J**

**Also to the lovely reviewers…Thank you J I appreciate you taking the time to leave me a review. Love to you all. And a shoutout to Chapter 1 reviewers up to this point. Thank you **_**butterpie, Liz, chocolaTTelover, nikitabell, KKMayfield, and MDarKspIrIt.**_** I can't reply to those without accounts so I'm just replying here ^^;**

**butterpie** - Ahaha thank you ^^ I often find around drunk people that everything makes perfect sense to them when they're drunk so… I kind of tried to give Harry that… but as I said already, I'm too fail to tie drunk and sex together ;A;

Ahh humour ….about that. I try, I do ;A; But when I try it always ends up being TERRIBLE! Trust me, my humour fails. But I will continue trying. Harry and Draco aren't going to make it together again until Chapter 19 though… *fails*

**Liz - **Haha thank you. I like abandon Prego Draco too…although I just like being mean to Draco *is horrible like that TwT* Cliff hangers are evil ….and I love them xD I'll be sure to leave them here and there.

**Hope you enjoy ~**

**- Flammy**

AoAoAoAoAo

"_Don't know why I'm doing this" he groused, before hoisting Potter up and dragging him up to the 7__th__ year dorms. "And you'd better be grateful you prat!" he warned him as he deposited the Golden Boy into his bed and turned away. Before he could leave, however, a hand closed around his wrist. Draco didn't even have the time to finish asking 'What are you doing?' before Potter pulled him almost on top of himself and pressed their lips together.'_

His muscles froze momentarily, seized by shock, before Draco yanked his mouth away. "Wh-What are you doing Potter?" he demanded, his voice coming out far more shaky than he would have liked. Dammit, Potter was kissing him. What was going on?

"M kissing you Draco" Potter mumbled, entwining his hands in Draco's sweater and pulling him closer. Draco didn't fight it, purely because the sweater was expensive and he'd rather not have it ripped. He turned his face away, though, as Potter tried to kiss him again, and the endearing action landed on his cheek instead.

"It's Malfoy to you Potter," the blonde snarled, albeit not as venomously as he would have liked. "And I see that. May I ask _why_ you are attempting to kiss me?" Not that he didn't want to kiss Potter. Merlin knew he did, no matter what he told himself. But really, there was no way Potter would kiss him. The ridiculously straight, Draco-hating Potter. There must be some sort of plot going on here, and Draco was determined to dig right to the bottom of it. Potter, however, gave the blonde a rather confused look, as if this was the most ridiculous question he had ever heard.

"Because I want to," he said in the tone of voice that indicated that his answer explained everything. Draco frowned, about to argue, when those insistent lips suddenly found his again, claiming them eagerly. The Slytherin stiffened again, keeping his mouth determinedly still. Potter eventually paused his kissing, sighing softly against his lips. "I really like you Draco," he murmured, his hands gently stroking up and down the blonde's back. Those intense green eyes raised to meet his, burning into them with something Draco couldn't quite place. "Have for a while now. 'S been hell tryin' to ignore it….trying to ignore you…" He ended his mumblings by pulling Draco down again and once more pressing their lips together in an insistent kiss. Draco, for his part, was too shocked to react. Potter really liked him? It seemed absurd, obviously the boy was lying but… the way he had said it, staring into the blonde's eyes, Draco couldn't find it in himself to disbelieve the shaggy-haired boy. It would certainly explain why Potter had been ignoring him thus far, would it not? A part of him, probably the logical part, was informing him of how very desperate and naïve of him it was to think this way. But the logical part was hidden behind years of unrequited attraction, lust, excitement, and the little buzz of the one glass of alcohol he had consumed that evening. Besides, the look in Potter's eyes…he had seen only earnest truth there. But was it enough?

X0X0X0X0X0X

Harry slowly broke the kiss, immediately missing the feel of the blonde's soft lips against his own. The lack of response, curiously, didn't upset or phase him as much as he had thought it might. Looking up at the Slytherin he had secretly longed after, he could virtually see the conflicted thoughts swirling through those silver-grey eyes. The sight sent a thrum of pleasure to Harry's groin. If Draco was conflicted, then Draco didn't hate him Draco must want this too, or else he would have fled by now. The fact that he was laying here, unsure, yes, but still here, meant that the blonde longed for this on some level. Fuelled by his newfound discovery, Harry manoeuvred a quick flip, pinning the Slytherin beneath him as he straddled his hips.

"Don' fight it Draco," he ordered softly, moving his face closer to the hesitant blondes. He read the uncertainty in those molten silver eyes, before pressing a gentle kiss to the ex-Death Eater's temple. "You want this too….no reason to say no." The body beneath him shuddered and released a moan as Harry moved the sweet kisses down the pointed nose. Harry drew back, studying the blonde intently. He looked a vision, panting, his usually perfect hair mussed and spread beneath him, those silver eyes wide and blown and that slender, pale body trembling with want, desire, and lust. "So beautiful," he murmured, stroking the Slytherin's eyebrow with his thumb, before trying the blondes lips with his own once more. Draco didn't respond immediately, but Harry could feel he was more relaxed. He experimentally swiped his tongue across the seam of the blondes lips, cheering a small victory when they hesitantly parted. The brunette wasted no time in plunging his tongue into the warm cavern and exploring for all he was worth.

The kiss lasted longer than Harry cared to keep track off, breaking off only when the participants found themselves in need of breath. Another thrill of victory rushed through him at having gotten the other boy to reciprocate, hesitant as it had been. The blonde in question was biting his lip nervously, grey eyes alight with lust, as he ran his hands gently up and down Harry's sweater-clad arms. He seemed to be having an internal debate with himself, Harry mused, rubbing his thumbs in circles in Draco's hair. The silvery eyes snapped up to meet his again, and Harry thought he saw something steeling within them, before the blonde leaned up, initiating another kiss and causing Harry's heart to soar with elation. He returned the kiss with a vengeance, slipping his thigh between the blonde's leg to rub his groin. Draco made a small groan of approval before his pale hands fluttered up, hesitating only slightly before slipping beneath Harry's sweater and shirt, rubbing the firm muscle underneath. They kissed this way for a while longer before Harry made a possessive growling sound, moving his attentions from the blonde's lips to his neck, where the brunette set about marking the territory he now considered his. Draco moaned under the attention, his fingers tangleing in the thatch atop Harry's head as Harry sucked, licked, nibbled, and bit. The Gryffindor revelled in the sounds slipping from his ex-rival's lips, wondering if he was the first one to draw such noises from the prickly blonde. He suddenly felt a stab of jealousy at the thought of someone else touching the Slytherin this way. He raised his head to let loose a possessive growl of 'Mine' before resuming his assault on the pale neck with a vengeance.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Draco gulped, his heart rate increasing as Potter's eyes burnt into his, before the darker haired boy growled out that possessive word and resumed working on Draco's neck, forcing another set of moans from the fairer of the two. Some part of the blonde's brain was warning him to stop this before it got too far, that submitting to this was a horrid idea, but Draco couldn't bring himself to listen. He had wanted this far too long, and when Potter looked at him with such earnest and claimed to return his feelings…well, he didn't have the strength to ignore it. Draco's lips quirked ever so slightly as he realized what he had just thought. They were about to shag…he would do well to call the boy Harry, at least within the confines of his own mind.

Potter…Harry…appeared at that moment to have decided that, since Draco had enough time to lose himself in thought so, he was clearly not giving the blonde enough pleasure. The brunette immediately set about to remedy this, rubbing the slighter boys groin more insistently as his hands snaked beneath the blondes shirt to toy with the quivering nipples. Draco let out a gasp of surprise, followed by a moan as the friction continued. Deciding that there were entirely too many clothes between them, the blonde allowed his hands to travel higher up Harry's body, dragging the other boy's shirt and sweater with them. The Gryffindor eagerly broke off his ministrations on Draco's neck and chest to aid in the removal of his clothing, sliding the material off his head and shoulders with ease. An appreciative moan was heard as Draco took in the sight of Harry's well built body, and he lifted his head to lick a stripe up the skin, pausing between the alert nipples. He felt, rather than heard, P-_Harry_'s sharp intake of breath before he was shoved back onto the bed, lips crashing down on his and claiming them entirely. The Slytherin barely had time to make even a squeak of surprise before his shirt was being unceremoniously ripped from his body, whilst Harry's tongue once again plundered his mouth. The small voice at the back of the blondes head that was attempting to voice a complaint on how expensive that shirt had been was almost immediately quashed when Harry's strong hands returned to his eager nipples, rubbing and lightly pinching and once more reducing Draco's usual eloquence to a plethora of moans and pleading. Taking it as the sign of encouragement it was, the brunette broke of his kiss with Draco to trace a path down the blonde's neck and chest with his mouth, pausing at one of the pink nipples. There he proceeded to swirl his tongue onto it, adding the occasional nip or suck, his hand still working on the other so as not to leave it out. He at some point swapped his hand and mouth, giving each nipple equal treatment, although Draco only barely registered that through his lustful haze of pleasure.

Just as the Malfoy heir started absently wondering if Harry planned to take the cruel path of getting the blonde to cum just by nipple torture, the brunette raised his head. He took a moment to gaze at the Slytherin beneath himself, smirking at the sight of the pink flush, the parted lips and lust filled pupils, before he began pressing open mouthed kisses in a path down toward Draco's naval. Draco arched off the bed, his hands flying to Harry's head and trying to push him down further, to where the blonde ached to be touched. The Gryffindor didn't comply, only letting out a mirthful chuckle before sticking his tongue into Draco's belly button, making the blonde whimper in surprise and pleasure. Harry's hand, still on his alert nipple, gave it a gentle twist at the sound, but the brunette didn't otherwise acknowledge the noise. Instead, he chose to plunder the dip with his tongue, as if there were treasure there and he wanted every last drop of it. The Slytherin fisted his hands in that thatch-like hair, so much smoother than it appeared, and moaned again. Harry seemed to approve of the noise, for he rewarded it with a few nips to Draco's general stomach area before finally _finally _moving down, kissing his way along the fine blonde curls that paved his path. The Slytherin let out another involuntary whimper as he felt Harry's warm breath ghost across his aching hardness, and then it was gone. His eyes, previously clenched tight from pleasure and anticipation, shot open to pin the brunette with a shocked and accusatory glare. He was met with a predatory grin.

X0X0X0X0X0X

The Gryffindor couldn't reign in the smile he felt spreading across his face at the sight of Draco's outraged eyes glaring at him. The blonde really was beautiful. He couldn't understand which part of him had told him that it would be a good idea to ignore his feelings, when he could have had this…and so much sooner! Now that he had him…well, he was going to be sure to enjoy it.

"What do ya want Draco?" Harry's voice came out in a seductive purr, and he felt a thrill of pleasure at the way the blonde quivered upon hearing it. "Tell me," he added, nibbling infuriatingly at the soft insides of the other boys thigh. He was rewarded by another moan -man this boy was sensitive- before, very softly, the words were uttered,

"I…I want you to….blow me." Harry raised his head, amused at the lack of volume in the usually self-confidant blonde. The Malfoy heir stared back at him, eyes wide and pupils large, and the bespectacled wizard couldn't help but let an appreciative sigh burst forth before lowering his head again. He paused, hovering just above the leaking cock, standing proudly from its base of soft blonde curls. He had wanted this for so long now, he could barely believe it was about to happen. How often he had dreamt of it, and only to find that his imagination did Draco no justice. The Slytherin was a beauty. His Slytherin. His Draco. All his…

Harry was shaken from his alarmingly possessive thoughts by an impatient twitch from the thighs his hands still rested upon. Chuckling at his Draco's impatience, the brunette lowered his head, finally, to lick gently at the tip of the other boys penis. The blonde's reactions once again encouraged him, both vocally and bodily, and he took some of the warm flesh into his mouth, swirling his tongue about it eagerly. A keening moan sounded out somewhere above him as Harry drew more of the hard shaft into his mouth, sucking eagerly. He peered up through his lashes to see Draco's head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open slightly, pants and moans slipping past those luscious kiss-swollen lips. A rush of heat shot through the Gryffindors body and he let out a pleased moan, delighting in the echoing cry that answered him. Concentrating once more on the task at hand, Harry relaxed his throat before pressing down, taking in as much of Draco as he could without choking. The hips beneath him thrust upward, seeking more heat, and Harry quickly brought his hands up to hold them down. He sucked for a bit before moving up again, and repeating the downward motion. The hands in his hair tightened painfully as their owner tried to stop himself from shoving the brunettes head down further. Harry obliged the unspoken wish and moved forward, attempting to suppress his gag reflex as he tried to take the blonde further into his throat. He gagged a little, but Draco didn't seem to mind, and so he pressed on. It was only when his nose hit a soft thatch of light curls that the Gryffindor realized that he had indeed managed to take in all of Draco's length. A sense of pride swelling within him, Harry set about sucking and swallowing, utterly loving the sounds it drew from the blonde beneath him.

It was when the Slytherin uttered "H-Harry…! Ngh!" and tightened those beautifully pale hands in his hair that Harry pulled away, licking his lips with relish. Draco whimpered at the loss, and the brunette chuckled as those silvery eyes flew open to gaze at him in confusion. "Why-" he started, but was shushed when Harry's lips met his yet again in another mind-numbing kiss.

"Don' want you comin' yet," Harry murmured after pulling away, before licking Draco's lips again. The blonde let out a needy whine and tried to drag Harry back down for another kiss, but the Gryffindor resisted. A mirthful smile gracing his lips, he brought his hands to tickle the pale boys balls, marvelling at the peach fuzz feeling of them. He revelled a moment in the uncontrolled moan that the Slytherin had let out before running his finger down, behind the balls and to the twitching hole that lay there. Holding his breath, the brunette slowly slid the digit in, smiling at the tight heat that surrounded him. Draco whimpered and shifted a little, unused to the feeling, but quickly settled.

"Feels so strange…" he informed the Gryffindor, voice little more than a whisper.

"Ya'll get used ta it," Harry promised, sliding in another finger. "We're gonna be doin' this a _lot_ more. I'm not pretending no more…." Draco didn't answer, choosing to let out another discomfited whine instead. Harry slowed down slightly, but didn't relent in the scissoring motions he was making. The blonde would get used to it, and he couldn't wait much longer to be inside him.

The Golden Boy wasted no time in inserting a third finger when Draco's squirming finally died down. The pale boy immediately stiffened around it, clearly uncomfortable with the latest intrusion. He whimpered yet again, raising his head to show Harry his watery, pleading eyes. "It hurts!" The blonde snivelled pathetically. Harry felt a wave of sympathy go over him at the adorable look he was being given, and he brought himself up to kiss the other boy again.

"You'll get used to it," he promised again, nuzzling Draco's cheek. His fingers, scissoring and stretching this whole time, chose that moment to brush against something that had Draco moaning and arcing off the bead.

"F-Fuck Potter- …Harry… do that again!" the blonde cried out, and Harry obliged him before pulling out, the other boys reaction turning him on too much. Besides, Draco was surely prepared enough anyway. The boy in question whimpered at the loss of Harry's fingers and the brunette chuckled.

"Hush baby, there's somethin' better comin soon," he soothed, stroking the blondes cheek lovingly with his left hand as he used his right to align his dick. The Gryffindor then kissed Draco lovingly as he slowly began to insert himself. The distraction didn't work as well as he'd hoped, however, as the blonde still tensed up around him. "Gotta relax" he murmured against the pale lips, adding a lick to them for good measure. The boy beneath him whimpered again and closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. Harry felt him gradually loosen up around him and smiled again as he pushed all the way in. "Fuuuck Draco, so tight!" He moaned as he got further in. Draco answered him with only a whimper, his eyes shut tight and face screwed up against the pain. Harry felt a slight twinge of guilt, but he knew that the sooner he got to the good stuff, the sooner the pain would turn to pleasure. Bearing this in mind, he resolved to stubbornly push forward unless the blonde actually asked him to stop. However, Draco never did ask him to stop. Instead, his hands tightened painfully on Harry's arms, nails digging into the darker skin. The Golden Boy hummed comfortingly as he gifted another kiss to the fairer of the two. The boy responded with another whimper as he returned with a half-kiss. Pushing in the rest of the way, Harry released a sigh of pleasure that set the blonde's fine fringe fluttering. It felt so great to be fully seated inside the older boy, and he could feel himself tingling with pleasure from it. Draco didn't seem to feel the same way, as his pained grimace hadn't quite faded. Harry bit his lip, eyes trained on those silvery ones. "You okay?" He managed.

"Y-yes fine just….move!" Came the reply, and the pale legs shifted slightly to give Harry more space. Hissing his pleasure, the Gryffindor slowly drew himself out before slamming back in. His actions were met with a whimper, but Harry couldn't bring himself to stop. It just felt too good. Instead he snapped his hip back again before pushing back in. "Nnngh H-Harry!" Came a pleading voice, and said boy's brow furrowed. He pulled out again, changing his angle slightly before pushing back in. At Draco's quiet whine, he deepened his frown. Still not the right angle… Repositioning again, he pushed back in and… "Aaaaah nnnng! Harry yes!"

'_There we go'_ Harry thought with a small smirk as he set a steady pace, brushing the blondes prostate again and again. His bed partner was now babbling incoherently, pushing back to meet Harry's thrusts. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the quiet room, coupled with random words and cries of each others names. Soft hands fluttered to Harry's cheeks with a deceptive gentleness before harshly tugging his head down to meet him in another kiss. It was sloppy and harsh, teeth clashing together, but to Harry, it was perfect. Gently they separated, and Harry stared down at the dishy blonde beneath them, his chest tightening with love, before spotting a dark blemish on the otherwise pale perfection that made up the other boy. Pressing himself closer to his bed partner, he seized up the slender arm and gazed upon that which had caught his attention: The Dark Mark. He felt Draco stilling beneath him, and raised his eyes to see a couple of silvery orbs gazing back at him, nervousness and worry clearly swirling within them.

"H-Harry I-" he started, trying to tug his arm away, but Harry held fast to the limb.

"_It's beautiful"_ he replied, kissing the black expanse. And really, it was a work of art. Once one got past the horrible meaning it carried, he could really appreciate the manner in which the serpent twisted out of the skull's perfect teeth. _"Beautiful," _he repeated as he put in his deepest thrust yet. He was surprised to find the blonde clamping down around him, warm seed splashing over their bodies. The tightening pulled him over the edge himself, and one hard thrust had him spilling deep into the other's lithe body. Laughing slightly in ecstasy, he collapsed atop the blonde. An irate moan sounded out below him, and his laughter doubled as he rolled off and turned to face the smaller boy, placing a loving hand on his cheek. "Mmmmm…you didn't last long, Draco. You a virgin?" The thought of his Draco being a virgin caused his heart to swell. Draco's blush confirmed his suspicions, and the blonde mumbled something, averting his eyes. "What was that?" He pressed, amused as he wondered what excuse the blonde might come up with.

"Was your talking," came the vague reply. At Harry's confused look, the blonde deigned to elaborate. "Parseltongue. You were talking to the mark. Hot," he told him. Harry felt a brief flash of confusion, having been unable to speak the language of snakes sine he had killed Voldemort, but then brushed it off. Who cared about minor in discrepancies anyway, when he was lying here entangled in the arms of a beautiful, loving blonde. Surging forward again, he pressed another kiss to those petal-soft lips before snuggling in next to the other's lithe body. A happy sigh was the last sound he heard before he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

**And that's that. Sorry for that fail. Next Chapter, Harry gets to be an arse! Well, he will be that a lot but ya know… Stay tuned~**

***tries to take less time this time***


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Warnings for this chapter: Nudity! Groping! Physical violence, name calling, Ginny, apples, and a tiny dose of angst **

**Summary: **After a drunken one-night-stand, Draco is left heartbroken and pregnant. When that also goes wrong, he convinces himself that he's not right for Harry and attempts to move on again. Several years later, however, a terrible incident lands him in St. Mungo's, where Harry finds him. With the blonde pregnant and slipping into depression, can Harry save the man he rejected so many years ago? And will he want to? Drarry. Not Epilogue compliant

**Story Warnings**: explicit sex both hetero and homo, slash, gang rape, m!preg, et cetera et cetera.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters or creatures. I do not own the setting, locations, and world used in this story. I own only the plot. This is a work of fiction. It is not based on actual events. I do not condone rape of any sort.

**Right. Only one month this time. So that's good. Hopefully I will get faster. Good thing is, I think this is the longest chapter to date. Almost twice the length of the last one! Hoorah! So once again, I have never been drunk, and thus never hung over. I don't know how that works. I'm also an unfeeling arsehole, so if reactions aren't how they should be…sorry ^^; I tried my best**

**I also tried to make these paragraphs a bit shorter (haha thanks for pointing that out btw) and for the most part I think I succeeded. They're still kinda long, but nothing like those megaliths that were there before lmao. Are these better?**

**...I always get so lost when I'm trying to upload a new chapter orz *will find my way around this site someday*  
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**And sorry for any mistakes, this is unbeta'd …just point them out to me and I'll fix yes? ****J (and if a beta is interested….?)**

**Also to the lovely reviewers…Thank you J I appreciate you taking the time to leave me a review. Love to you all. And a shout out to those who reviewed after Chapter 2 was posted. Thank you **_**nikitabell, blackcurrent, sindy, RocklifeDude, Sacred Phoenix of Nephthys, and winter-of-discontent.**_** I can't reply when pms are off so I'm just replying here ^^;**

**winter-of-discontent : **Haha I'm glad. Although that relationship is going to be thrown to the rocks more or less this chapter. And Draco gets a bit more insecure…especially next chappie J

**Thank you for reading, Hope you enjoy ~**

**- Flammy**

AoAoAoAoAo

'"_Was your talking," came the vague reply. At Harry's confused look, the blonde deigned to elaborate. "Parseltongue. You were talking to the mark. Hot," he told him. Harry felt a brief flash of confusion, having been unable to speak the language of snakes sine he had killed Voldemort, but then brushed it off. Who cared about minor in discrepancies anyway, when he was lying here entangled in the arms of a beautiful, loving blonde. Surging forward again, he pressed another kiss to those petal-soft lips before snuggling in next to the other's lithe body. A happy sigh was the last sound he heard before he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.'_

It was peaceful in the Gryffindor tower. Sunlight floated in through the translucent curtains, brightening the dust motes that floated about the room. There was no other movement, the inhabitants of the room long since left to pursue breakfast. Only one bed still held life, concealed behind crimson curtains that diffused the morning light that drifted into the room. Upon the bed, a pair of slumbering boys lay, limbs tangled in a lovely contrast of milky and tan skin. A sleepy murmur sounded and a strong arm arose from the mass of flesh to drape itself across a slender pale chest. It was met with a groan from the boy attached to the chest, prior to the opening of a pair of slate grey eyes.

Draco woke up, confusion and panic gripping him as he observed the scarlet draping around him. Why in the name of Merlin where the bed hangings red? A Malfoy would most certainly never choose to sleep with such an atrocity. And this was unquestionably not his feather down mattress and pillows that he had brought with him from home every year he had attended this school. The revelation was alarming to the blonde, whose breathing began to quicken in terror.

Sitting bolt upright, Draco felt a weight fall from his chest to land in his lap, where it remained a heavy warmth. Startled, the Slytherin drew the imperfect sheets about himself as his head whipped around, keen to locate the source of the intrusion. His gaze was met with a beautifully sculpted arm resting peacefully against his thighs. The Malfoy heir's heart leapt to his throat as he traced along the limb to find a delectable shoulder which was attached to one very gorgeous looking Harry Potter. A flood of confusion stopped all thought before rush of warmth washed it away as the memories of last night flowed back into his brain, accompanied by an admittedly delayed pang of pain in his rear that was finally able to make itself known beyond his prior panic.

The pain was ignored, however. Instead, a small, shy smile slowly slid across Draco's face as he brought one slender finger to trace the Golden Boy's succulent lips, the memories wrapping around him in a warm blanket. Harry had told him last night that he loved him back! The boy had been pining for him, for Draco Malfoy, all this time! It was almost too good to be true. A happy sigh escaped the blonde's lips as he allowed his body to relax and fall back to the mattress, the horrible colour and feel of the bed suddenly inconsequential beside the joy that filled his being. Cuddling up beside the slumbering saviour, the Malfoy heir allowed himself to slip back into the realms of sleep, a contented smile still curling his pale lips.

X0X0X0X0X0X

It wasn't more than fifteen minutes that had passed since the blonde had returned to dreamland when his companion began to stir. His strong body twisted, pulling the sheets to and fro as the brunette scrunched his face against a raging hangover that was making it decidedly difficult to remain asleep. A tanned hand flew to the lightning bolt scar on the taller boy's forehead, trying vainly to stave of the pounding that beat at his head.

"Ugh" he groaned, voice breaking the silence that had had its hold over the room. The sound of his voice boomed in his own ears, causing the Gryffindor to flinch slightly at the sound of it. Bringing another hand up to clutch at his forehead, the boy lay as still as he was able, willing the pain to recede. It seemed to work as the pounding slowly subsided enough that he could feel the sensations around him, such as sheets against his bare skin, light filtering weakly through his eyelids, and a warm body pressed up against him- wait what?

The sheets flew back as Harry sat bolt upright, his jade eyes flying open in the same confusion and panic his companion had felt earlier that morning. However, his peepers were opened too wide and too fast. Harry moaned in complaint at the assault of pounding to his head from the sudden onslaught of light, and he shut his eyes tightly again to try and combat the feeling. Once the ebbing had died down somewhat, he slowly opened his eyes, wincing slightly at the pain that even that caused and cursing his own stupidity. He must have gotten completely shitfaced last night in order to be this hung over!

The thought brought him back to the alarming revelation that had caused him to sit up in the first place. There was someone in his bed. Sometime last night he must have picked someone up for a good time. How could he have done that? Harry was the Golden Boy for Merlin's sake, one would think he had more class than that. He turned slowly to face the intruder, praying to every deity that ever there were that it wasn't who he feared it may be.

But of course, life had never been kind to Harry Potter. From the time he was a mere babe, he had been thrust into one unfortunate situation after the other, barely being spared a breather. Yet when he saw who exactly the alcohol had prompted him to bed, all of his years putting up with life's fickle ways did nothing to stop a wave of acute horror from shooting through him. Of all the people in Hogwarts, it would have to be Draco Malfoy. He should have known that in his drunken state, all of his inhibitions, every reason he'd had for ignoring his feelings for the blonde would be tossed out the window. All of that time he had spent avoiding the blonde, denying the attraction he held for him, all washed away in one single night of drunken idiocy.

Harry found himself staring at the other boy's decidedly beautiful pale skin, conflicting thoughts running through his head. One thing that didn't escape his notice was that the blonde looked to be naked beneath the blankets, and the thought caused his breath to quicken in nervous tension. He had fantasized about the blonde naked often enough, and now Harry was struck by an urge to see that body that he had spent so many hours caressing within the confines of his mind. Unable to resist, the brunette slid back the covers gently, so as not to wake the boy, and gazed upon his prey. He felt his breath catch at the pale Adonis on display before him, more glorious in all his slumbering splendour than even the most vivid of Harry's imaginations.

Holding his breath, he gently reached out to touch the ivory skin, feeling for all the world like he was reaching for forbidden fruit and loving every moment of it. The brunette ran his fingers along the pale flesh, marvelling at the silky smooth feel of the other boy's body. He could feel Draco shivering beneath his touch, and it caused a smile to curve at his lips, matching the one present on the sleeping boy's face..

"So sensitive," he whispered, watching as the Slytherin shifted in his sleep, causing that light blonde hair to fan out onto the pillow beneath him. Harry was enraptured by the beautiful sight, stroking that delicate face gently as his gaze explored the pale expanse before him. It wasn't long before he found his eyes drawn lower, until he was staring at the other boy's penis, a need to touch it rushing through him. Attempting to resist was futile, and Harry didn't bother trying. Instead, he traced his hand down the blonde's slender body ,taking his time and relishing how it felt against his fingertips, before wrapping the digits firmly around the blonde's long member. The moment his hand touched the other's most private organ, a sense of wonder filled him, causing his breath to hitch. He had done it! He had finally, finally done it, after so long of dreaming about it.

A sudden moan from the boy whose member Harry was currently rubbing startled the brunette out of his thoughts. It was as though a bucket of ice cold water had doused him, and suddenly his head cleared completely, and he realized the gravity of the situation. What was he doing? He knew he couldn't be with Draco! There had been a reason he had been avoiding the blonde for all this time, and it wasn't because he liked torturing himself with unrequited lust. Nobody would accept this. The public, his friends, the Weasleys…

Oh god, the Weaselys. He may as well be betraying them right now, the way he was behaving. Harry was supposed to marry Ginny, and he knew it. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, _they _were the worlds golden couple. Not Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, that was preposterous. It would never work, it would never be accepted, not the Saviour of the Wizarding World and a …a Death Eater! For that's what Draco was. The proof was right there on his forearm. A sudden memory of kissing that blemish swam across Harry's mind, and he sneered darkly. As if he would ever do such a thing.

"H-Harry?" The soft voice jerked the green eyed boy from his internal rant, and he looked down again to see soft grey eyes blinking sleepily up at him. The blonde gave him an innocent and bemused stare before bringing his pale hands up to rub at his eye sockets, pushing the sleep away. As Harry watched, those orbs drifted to where his hands were fisting around the pale prick. A slow smile spread across the blonde's face at the sight of it, and he turned a happy argent gaze to the brunette. Harry, however, felt suddenly disgusted at the flaxen haired youth. How could he be enjoying this? Didn't he know how wrong he was? The Gryffindor shuddered abruptly and yanked his hand back as though it had been burned.

"H-huh?" Draco's voice took on a self-conscious quality as he voiced his surprise at the rejection. The fair haired boy sat up, drawing the sheets about himself up to cover his dignity, and suddenly refusing to meet Harry's eyes. The brunette drew his lips back into a sneer at the action, vehemently denying how cute he found it to be. Instead, he focused on the minute sense of power he felt from the reaction and allowed it to grow, coupling it with his disgust to fuel his hateful words.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, pleased at how harshly his voice came out. Draco flinched back and fiddled with his thumbs nervously, causing Harry's eyes to zone in on the movement, marking every semblance of weakness in the blonde and noting every imperfection.

"W-Well..yuh-you were drunk and-" the Slytherin began, before he found himself cut off by the brunette's enraged voice.

"I was drunk? You knew I was drunk and you still took advantage of me?" Harry felt an intense wave of fury wash through him as he snarled the words at the unsuspecting blonde. The pale youth flinched back again, and a part of Harry felt guilty at the way he was treating the other boy. He quickly smothered that part, however. Blaming Draco was far easier than blaming himself for this mess, and as such, it was no trouble to make himself believe his own words.

"Wha-What? I…n-no I-" Draco's stutter was abruptly silenced as Harry's hand slammed sharply into his cheek, knocking the blonde bodily from the bed. He hit the hard stone floor with a yelp, wincing against the sharp pain that tore through his already aching body. Harry glared down at the boy, feeling a sort of vindictive pleasure as the slender youth whimpered and looked up at him, large grey eyes brimmed with tears. What right did Draco have to be crying? He had been the one in the wrong here, seducing Harry whilst he was drunk. Once more, anger filled him, this time directed toward the tears that gathered in that silvery gaze.

"Get out!" He snarled, ripping back the curtains and pointing at the door. In retrospect, he realized that he really ought to have assured himself of their privacy before committing such an action, but as luck would have it, the room was empty, and he was able to continue his angry berating. "This should never have happened. I never want to see you again, now go!"

Draco stared at him in shock, seemingly too stunned to move. Silence descended on the room, the only audible sounds being their breathing, Harry's harsh and angry, Draco's faltering and nervous. After a couple of minutes of this had passed, the blonde not moving, Harry snarled. "I SAID OUT!" He yelled, causing the smaller boy to flinch. When he made no other movement, the brunette shot up angrily. He hopped off his mattress, storming up to the Slytherin and yanking him up harshly by the arm. His other hand snapped up to grasp the other's slender neck and shove the boy bodily against the wall.

"I am going to get ready for the day now. You had better be gone from here by the time I get back," he warned in a deadly whisper, "or _so help me_ I will wring your skinny little neck!" And with that, he dropped his hapless classmate to the floor and disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.

X0X0X0X0X0X

For a good ten minutes, Draco remained on the floor, his body numb despite the pain of his aggravated rear. He stared blankly at the closed door that sat between himself and Harry. Harry, who had just stormed out on him. Harry, who had just threatened him with death. Harry, who he had been dreaming of for his whole life, who had promised last night that he loved him and then shattered that along with Draco's heart.

The blonde felt tears filling up his eyes, and furiously brought his hands up to brush them away. He would not cry, would not allow that indignity to be brought upon himself by Potter. He ought to have known this would happen. He should have listened to that little voice inside his head, the voice that told him to stop, that it was a mistake, but no. Instead he had listened to his stupid heart, that promised him change, that told him that his suffering was over and this would be the good thing he had been waiting for his whole life. He should have known better. Nothing good ever happened to Draco Malfoy. He didn't know what had possessed him to think this would be different.

Gathering his breath, the blonde stood. Almost mechanically, he began retrieving his clothes and pulling them on haphazardly, wincing at the pain in his backside. There was no point in him staying now. Harry didn't want him, and he certainly wasn't going to force himself on the other boy. Slowly, he began to make his way toward the door in a stuttering limp, wincing and flinching periodically from the pain shooting through his body from his rear.

'_Look, look how you've fallen,_' taunted a sneering voice from within his head. _'What would your father think if he saw you now? Useless piece of shit'_ Draco shook his head to clear the disparaging thoughts. It mattered not what his father thought - the man was in Azkaban. Frowning slightly, the blonde tried to convince himself of this, only to find that it proved fruitless. His sire's lectures had been too long ingrained in his person for him to simply ignore. Heaving a heavy sigh that matched his mood, the Slytherin decided he may as well at least cast a glamour over himself, just in case he happened across somebody in this state. His pale hands moved to retrieve his wand, only to feel nothing.

Draco stopped short in panic, his heart leaping to his throat, before reason caught up to him and he realized it must have wound up somewhere in the room during the sex. Cautiously, he turned back to the dorm. Keeping a wary eye on the bathroom door, the blonde slowly sank to his knees and began searching the floor. It took about a minute to locate the piece of wood, beneath Harry's bedside table. Letting out a relieved breath, the flaxen-haired boy stood, fixing the wand with a thankful stare.

It was then that he noticed something, lying peacefully in a partly opened drawer, that made his heart return to his throat and start pounding. Was that-? No, it couldn't be. Heart beating a tattoo in his neck, Draco slipped a pale hand into the dark furniture, closing his eyes as his appendage closed around a familiar warmth.

"Ten Inches… Hawthorne… Unicorn Hair," he whispered, as if it had been only yesterday when he had last held this wand. In truth it certainly felt that way. Holding the piece of wood, Draco for a moment forgot all the troubles surrounding him as he revelled in the feeling of finally being reunited with his wand. The magic of it that felt so familiar to him was still there, reaching out and wrapping around him warmly like an old friend greeting him after too many years apart. He remained standing there clutching the wand for almost a minute, before a noise from the bathroom snapped him out of his trance. Remembering his situation, he swallowed nervously before turning back to the door, pocketing both wands. It was his after all. What right did Potter have to it, especially after this?

The blond made his wary way down the stairs from the dorm, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he neared the common room and saw the décor. Commoner's Room was more like it. _'Trust Potter to live in such a horrid mess'_ he thought vengefully. He knew that was unfair, and that Potter could hardly go about changing the look of the place, but the thought made him feel better anyhow. Sneering, the Slytherin quickly crossed the mercifully empty common room, thanking the gods that no one saw fit to inhabit the area at this moment. Upstairs, he heard the bathroom door open and scowled, torn. A part of him wanted to go back, to confront the Gryffindor and win him back. But the bigger, more Slytherin side, was too afraid, not wanting to be rejected or hurt again.

The mental debate took about two seconds before his inner coward won out, and Draco made his way heavily to the accursed hole that marked the exit of the Gryffindor tower. Why on Earth anyone would want something as undignified as a bloody hole, when there were perfectly reasonable inventions such as doors readily available, the blonde would never know. Cursing darkly, he pulled himself up and crawled through, shoving the portrait open as roughly as he could before tumbling out the other side, wincing again at the recurring pain in his rear. He spent a moment on the floor to gather himself, before the portrait closed again and the woman within eyed him with a glower.

"Oh it's _you_," she said, pronouncing the 'you' as if she were speaking to a pile of dung. "Your kind is not welcome here," the obese woman added, scowling. "Go on, get out! Shoo!"

Draco returned her words with a frown, but complied anyway and began making his way down the stairs, hoping against all hopes that no one would see him, at least not until the relative safety of the Slytherin dungeon. It was bad enough to be making the walk of shame, and he certainly didn't want to be caught doing it.

Of course, as the blonde had already come to learn, life had a way of being very unkind to him. It was around the fourth floor that he ran into them, him heading down the stairs whilst they climbed, most likely on the way to check on their beloved bespectacled brat of a friend. Which made sense, as breakfast had long since passed and it was now going on lunch. They would be missing their ringleader.

The Weasel spotted him first, and Draco tiredly hoped that he would not say a word. He was in no mood to fight right now, least of all with Potter's friends. They just made him think of Potter, which was painful. Draco frowned and glared at the wall, refusing to look at them in case it provoked them, and refusing to look at the ground because that was something a Malfoy would never do.

Weasley, predictably, started on him anyway. "What's the matter Malfoy?" He taunted, an ugly sneer marking his ugly freckled mug as he took in the Slytherin's dishevelled state and ruined shirt. "Decided to join us paupers? Or did you not have time to do yourself up this morning? Find some new Dark Lord and became his bitch?"

Draco bristled, snapping his gaze away from the innocent wall and turning it on the redhead. He would have to prey on his appearance wouldn't he? The blonde felt a pang of pain in his heart at the Weasel's words. As much as he hated to admit it, they hurt. He wished he could be Potter's bitch. Wait, where did that come from? A Malfoy was no one's bitch, and he said as much to the redhead, a condescending tone colouring his voice.

"A Malfoy is never a bitch Weasley," he drawled, "that's reserved for the lesser species such as yourself. And never think I'm joining you paupers. Even what I have on is better than those hand-me-down rags. Did your entire family own them before you? I suppose they'd go to the Weaslette next, so she can slut them up hmm? How does it feel knowing your clothing is going to be seeing half the men in Hogwarts?"

He knew he was being rude and unfair. The youngest Weasley had stopped her whorish ways after the war. Well, mostly anyway. But now he just wanted to get a rise out of the boy, to hurt Harry's friends the way that Harry had hurt him. And his words did their job, if the enraged yell that the Weasel let out was any indication. He braced himself as the tall ginger launched at him, only to be saved when a pair of slim arms grabbed the incensed boy and held him back.

"Don't Ron. He's not worth it!" Chided the female of the golden trio. She gave Draco a hateful look over Ron's shoulder before attempting to steer him away. "Let's just go find Harry."

Ron, however, resisted. "Let go 'Mione," he snarled, attempting to wrench himself away. "That little monster insulted my sister! Why is he even here? He's a bloomin' Death Eater for Merlin's sake! He ought to be in Azkaban!" He lurched again in her grasp as he tried to get to the boy in question. Draco just scowled at him.

"At least Azkaban is superior than that pig sty you belong to," he hissed, not believing his own words one bit. "I suppose you and the mudblood are going to return there and make little piggy babies for a future generation of muddy swine hmm? What shall you call them, Oink and Oinketta? Or perhaps your family is so poor that you'll use hand-me-down names too? Weasel junior? Mu-" he was cut of again, this time when the redhead's thick fist met his face with a sick crunch, sending him to the ground for the third time that day.

Granger had stopped holding Weasley back, her hair bushier than usual in her fury and her muddy eyes blazing. Draco attempted to sneer at the pair of them from the ground, his effort severely thwarted by the fact that he was gingerly cupping his bleeding nose. It hurt, but not nearly as much as what Harry had done, and the blonde welcomed this pain as a distraction from the more acute one throbbing in his heart.

"Ah your poor breeding is showing Weasley," he drawled around his hand. "Physical violence when you could use magic? How crass. You behave more a mudblood than she!" He smirked in satisfaction as he saw anger flash in the Gryffindor's eyes, and the Weasel advanced on him, glowering.

"Shut _up_ Malfoy!" Shrieked the mudblood, while Weasley drew his arm back again for another punch. Draco braced himself for the pain, closing his eyes and turning his head to the side slightly. He was jerked up by his shirt's already rumpled collar, and he could feel the redhead's arm tense as he prepared to punch hi when-

"Hermione? Ron? What are you doing?" The voice that echoed down from the stairwell made Draco flinch and clench his eyes tighter. Why was he here now? The blonde didn't want to see Potter, he couldn't face him just yet. And finding him fighting with his friends…the Golden Boy was going to hate him even more now. A groan passed his lips as he turned in tandem with the Gryffindors to face the messy-haired hero, standing on the stairs in rumpled clothes, clearly having just left the showers not long ago. A frown marred those handsome features as Harry drew closer, his verdant eyes flicking from one face to the next.

"This snake was insulting my family!" Ron all but exploded, his thick finger swinging up to point at the slender blonde, causing him to flinch away. "AND 'Mione! I was teaching him a lesson!" He turned again to snarl at Draco, who met his gaze challengingly for all but three seconds before dropping it, recalling that Harry was there. Nervously, he snuck a peek at Harry, wondering what he would say.

Harry's frown deepened before his face smoothed out and he turned to his redheaded friend. "Just leave it Ron," he said in an even tone, "He's not worth it. You know that he's not worth the dirt on your shoes. Now I'm hungry. You up for some lunch?" He regarded Ron with a decidedly amused smile as a grin broke out across the gangly teen's face, undoubtedly at the prospect of more food.

"Sure thing Harry," he chirped, turning around and annoying Hermione's irritated huff. He strode back toward the Great Hall, making sure to bump Draco as he passed. The blonde heard a low angry hiss as he passed; "Don't think for a moment I've forgotten about this ferret"

Draco couldn't even bring himself to retort, buried as he was in a horrifyingly numb pain…if such a thing could even be said to exist. What Potter had said about him…that hurt. He had known the brunette didn't like him, but it was that bad? The Slytherin raised his head to stare at the Gryffindor in question, his watery eyes betraying his hurt, but Harry didn't look at him. Instead, he followed his friends down the stairs, heading toward the Great Hall.

The Malfoy heir remained standing where he was, staring brokenly after the trio. Why had everything gone so wrong today? He knew it was his fault, for not listening to his better judgement, but still. Would things never just go his way for once? Heaving a great sigh, the blonde followed them down the stairs, sliding his Malfoy mask back into place. He strode past the Great Hall, shuddering at the tantalizing scent wafting from it. His stomach grumbled hungrily, but he stubbornly kept walking. He was too upset to show his face in the Great Hall, even had he not bore such a thoroughly ravished appearance.

The Slytherin made his way down into the cold dungeons, glad that nobody was about. Of course, this was largely due to the fact that everyone was lunching, but he was grateful anyway. Knowing his luck, he wouldn't have been surprised if Peeves had held up a hallway full of students somewhere between him and his dorms. As it was, however, Peeves was currently drawing faces on the trophies in the trophy room and Draco met no one on his path down to the Slytherin common rooms.

Pausing at the blank stretch of wall, the blonde took a small breath and squared his shoulders, readying himself for possible interaction with anyone that had deigned to remain behind and skip the midday meal. It took him a few moments to assure himself that his composure would hold no matter what questions came his way, but he eventually felt ready and murmured "_Mundus Sanguis_" at the wall. It slid open before him, and he stepped gracefully inside. Braced as he was for the comments to fly his way, it took him a few moments and a few more steps into the dim space to realize that he was, after all, alone.

For some reason, the blonde found this revelation to be utterly depressing. He had gone missing for a whole night, not showing up until lunch the next day, and yet nobody had thought to wait for him, to check if he'd make it back alright? He exhaled quietly and allowed his wall to fall, his face crumpling in the silent gloom of the room where there was nobody present to see. Slowly, he made his way toward his dorm, moving mechanically down the hall and through the elegantly carved doorway. He sat dully on the edge of his bed, his hand automatically reaching out and retrieving one of the green apples that sat waiting in a basket upon his bedside table.

The chewing sounded excruciatingly loud in the empty room, but Draco found he welcomed the distraction. It was actually quite calming, and he closed his eyes and focussed purely on the sound. A good few minutes passed in this fashion until the youth was left with only an apple core. Feeling slightly better, the blonde allowed himself to fall gracefully back onto the bed, kicking off his shoes and shifting his legs to join the rest of his body on the mattress. He gazed up at the forest green canopy, thinking. What he would really like was a good long cry, but that was too far below the Malfoy standards even for an empty room, and so he could only think instead.

Harry had claimed to love him. But Harry was drunk. And then the next morning, Harry had thrown him out and essentially flipped out on him for sleeping with him. So it seemed Harry hated him. Yet the brunette had claimed to love him…and he wouldn't have said such a thing unless it was true right? There was no way of knowing, the blonde decided, unless he asked Potter. And that was what he intended to do. Tomorrow, he was going to the Golden Boy to demand answers. Smirking to himself, he reached out and picked up another apple.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Harry growled as he slammed the door to the bathroom shut. He spun about, turning his ire to the rest of the tiny room. His clothes were quickly ripped off and thrown randomly about, his feet making angry contact with random objects and relishing the resulting pain. He kicked his way over to a cabinet that was kept in the corner of the boy's bathroom, in which they had hidden Hangover Potion. It proved to be useful with all the partying that now went on. Harry wrenched open the lid of one of the bottles before downing the entire thing in one go. He suppressed a shiver as it traveled through him, cold, before hurling the now empty bottle across the room.

Huffing, he stormed over to the shower and threw open the door, smirking at the bang that sounded as it bounced off the wall. Stepping quietly into the shower, he turned it on and stood tensely beneath the steamy spray as he reflected on what had happened.

"Arrgh!" He cried out, frustrated. No matter how he looked at it, this was a disaster. The only potentially redeeming point - that he had had sex with Draco, something he had always dreamed off - couldn't even be remembered. Letting out a huff, the brunette leant his head back, resting it against the tiled wall of the shower. He closed his eyes and sighed, remaining in that position for an uncertain amount of time whilst he concentrated on his breathing and attempted to calm himself down.

He eventually pulled himself from the shower, feeling sufficiently soothed, and wrapped a Gryffindor red towel about himself as he moved over to the mirror. He could deal with this. He would move past it like it hadn't happened, and go back to pretending Draco didn't exist. Nodding firmly to himself, the bespectacled boy turned away from the mirror, heading over to the door and shutting it behind himself with a snap. He strode over to his bed, grabbing clothes haphazardly from his trunk and throwing them on. He towelled his hair dry before flipping it back away from his face, smirking at his reflection in the mirror before retrieving his spectacles and placing them in their proper place on his face.

Feeling much better, the brunette picked up his wand from where it had been carefully deposited on his bedside table last night - by Draco before he had been pulled in for the kiss, although Harry was not to know that - and turned to leave the common room. He trudged down the stairs, smiling when he found the common room empty. If the Slytherin had not been seen, that would mean there would be no awkward questions from his dorm mates, a fact which pleased the messy-haired hero to no end. All the easier for him to forget about this indiscretion.

He clambered through the portrait hole, exchanging a cheery greeting with the Fat Lady, who was pleasant enough albeit seeming a tad bit suspicious. Harry shrugged it off, realizing she was probably just wondering what a Slytherin had been doing within the Gryffindor tower. That thought led the brunette to wondering how the blonde had managed to get into the enemy's common room anyway, but he quickly banished the curiosity. He was not supposed to be thinking of the pale boy after all.

Just as he had decided that, he heard a commotion coming from ahead of himself, a little ways down the staircase. Frowning with curiosity, he registered the voices of Ron, Hermione, and -oh Merlin why?- Draco. From the sounds of it, they were not getting along. "Surprise surprise," Harry muttered to himself, speeding up his steps as a thud sounded somewhere below him. He reached the fourth floor landing just in time to see Ron jerking Malfoy of the floor by his collar, his fist poised to strike. Malfoy had his face turned away, blood flowing freely from his nose.

His heart jolted at the thought that his Slytherin was about to be hurt, had already been hurt, and before he knew what he was doing he called out to his friends. They both turned to him, as did Malfoy. Harry advanced on them, his eyes jumping from one of them to the next. Hermione looked angry and upset, Ron enraged, and Malfoy …well, Malfoy looked a mess. The brunette didn't let himself dwell on it, however, and instead listened as his redheaded friend launched into a spiel about why the blonde deserved it. Harry watched Ron turned to glare at the boy, noting with curiosity how quickly the Slytherin dropped his friends gaze. Ron, looking satisfied, turned to look at Harry, missing the nervous look that was directed at the brunette from the slighter boy.

Harry frowned, turning away from Draco. He couldn't let himself become caught up with the other boy. He had already come dangerously close to wanting to defend the blonde, and that just wouldn't do. Instead, he decided to protect the blonde from Ron's fist in the best way he could. Smoothing his face, he looked at the redhead. "Just leave it Ron," he said, praying that his voice betrayed nothing, "He's not worth it. You know that he's not worth the dirt on your shoes. Now I'm hungry. You up for some lunch?" A grin broke out across Ron's freckled face at the thought of food, and Harry smiled in amusement. Trusty old Ron and his perpetually hungry stomach.

"Sure thing Harry," came the reply, and Harry smiled as he headed down. Hermione made a predictable huffing sound, probably wanting to talk more about the incident and 'sort it out', but followed him anyway, letting Ron bring up the rear. Harry stared determinedly ahead, ignoring the screeching voice in his brain that was demanding he turn around and get a good look at Draco's fair face, and then perhaps snog it senseless. This whole ignoring thing wasn't working very well at all, he realized. He would need to do better, because even these thoughts were betrayals. Poor Ginny was waiting for Harry so they could resume their relationship and here he was thinking inappropriate thoughts about the most inappropriate person he could be having such thoughts about! Harry made a mental note to rectify the situation as soon as possible.

They soon arrived at the Great Hall, Harry's mouth watering at the enticing aroma that blanketed him the moment he set foot inside. Ron made an immediate beeline toward the Gryffindor table, one that Harry quickly traced with his own feet. Seating himself comfortably next to Ron, he smiled as he greeted the other Gryffindors that were seated around them. He helped himself to a large plate of fish and chips, dousing the whole ensemble with more catsup than was ever necessary, much to Hermione's disdain. She wrinkled her nose at him and Ron both before pulling out one of her ever-present books and proceeding to bury herself in its contents. Neither Gryffindor boy let it bother them, though, as it was standard behaviour for Hermione, and instead tucked in to the scrumptious food before them. Yet it didn't escape the Golden Boy's notice that Draco had chosen not to show his face for lunch.

It was just as Harry was finishing his fodder that something broke into his silent worrying about the blonde. "Morning Harry," came a chirpy voice that Harry knew very well. Turning his head, he saw Ginny sliding up to him. She settled her hand on his knee, and Harry felt inexplicable guilt again. Here he had been thinking about Draco again, instead of getting back together with her. He had to change that, he decided, and now.

Turning to her with a smile, he whispered, "More like afternoon, but hi Ginny. I need to talk to you."

Her eyes widened and she scooted closer to him, practically sitting on the edge of her seat. "N-now? I can go now! I mean, if you're not done eating I'm sure it can wait, but oh _Harry_!" Harry gave her a bemused smile at her babbling. He could never understand women. How could one get so excited over the simple prospect of talking? Granted, she had been waiting for this particular talk for quite some time, and if her reaction was anything to gauge by, she probably had an idea of what he was going to say.

"We can go now," he assured her, gesturing at his empty plate. The girl gave of a delighted shriek as she leapt up from the table, fixing him with a beaming smile. Harry stood too, answering Ron's confused glance with a wry smile as he followed the bubbly redhead out of the Great Hall. There she stopped and allowed him to lead, tittering delightedly. Harry grasped her hand and tugged her with him, pulling her to an empty classroom on the first floor. There he stopped and turned to face the giggling girl, taking a deep breath. This was it. It was time to move on with his life.

"Ginny, will you be my girlfriend?" He asked soberly, taking her hands in his in an attempt to be romantic. Ginny let out an unintelligible scream and wrenched her hands away, instead tossing them around his neck and dragging him into a deep kiss. As her tongue probed into her mouth, tried to ignore how wrong this felt, and how much he'd rather be in this position with a certain blonde Slytherin instead.

**And that's that. Weird place to end, I know. Not too sure if I liked this one much. Threw in a nod to Drapple for those of you who care *gigglesnorts***

**Next Chapter, Harry gets to be an arse! Wait…isn't that what happened anyway? Possible sex of the hetero variety and some more angst to go around. **

**Stay tuned~**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

**Warnings for this chapter: Ginny sex! Exploding potions! Corridor kissing, angry Rons, fruit, Turtletoes, and some more angst to go around **

**Summary: **After a drunken one-night-stand, Draco is left heartbroken and pregnant. When that also goes wrong, he convinces himself that he's not right for Harry and attempts to move on again. Several years later, however, a terrible incident lands him in St. Mungo's, where Harry finds him. With the blonde pregnant and slipping into depression, can Harry save the man he rejected so many years ago? And will he want to? Drarry. Not Epilogue compliant

**Story Warnings**: explicit sex , slash, gang rape, m!preg, et cetera et cetera.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters or creatures. I do not own the setting, locations, and world used in this story. I own only the plot. This is a work of fiction. It is not based on actual events. I do not condone rape of any sort. There is no monetary compensation being achieved from this work.

**Ummm….soooo…long wait huh? Nice to see you guys again… in a way, I suppose neither of us have really seen the other. I look like a train wreck, for the record, so it's okay if you don't see me. Anyway…reasons for long wait…writer's block, faulty computer power supply, and a vacation. That being said, this is the longest chapter to date, longer than all of the others combined, so perhaps that makes up for it? Although that could be due to the obscenely large amount of useless nonsense that permeates this chapter… Does anyone read the arthor's comments? I could just say random things…pineapples.**

**Since I appear to be unable to develop feelings more than friendship for anyone, I have no idea how sex works really, and especially not straight sex, so…I just kind of skipped Harry and Ginny's sex scene…lol sorry about that. I thought I could read some straight fanfics and brush up or something, but…I just can't read sex with a woman apparently =_='. I'm also an unfeeling arsehole, so if reactions aren't how they should be…sorry ^^; I tried my best. I also apparently tend to write mostly at night when I should be asleep by all accounts… so if things don't make sense…I chalk it up to that, I'm sorry, please tell me and I'll attempt to either clarify or right it. **

**I won't lie to you, I sorta hate parts of this one, especially the ending, but I've held out for long enough so I'm going to go ahead and post it…it's not getting any better any time soon apparently -_-**

**There were a lot of comments saying Harry should suffer for what he'd done, and reading back, I guess I didn't really show it, but Harry is a bit conflicted about it too. I tried to show a bit more of Harry's feelings in this one…basically, he is just a very confused kid 0.o I also went with the Pansy as a good friend route on this one instead of Pansy as an annoying girl who just wants to shag him…figured the poor bloke could use a friend haha.**

**Again, sorry for any mistakes, this is unbeta'd …just point them out to me and I'll fix yes? ****J**

**Also to the lovely reviewers…Thank you J I appreciate you taking the time to leave me a review. Love to you all. And a shout out to those who reviewed after Chapter 3 was posted. Thank you **_**MDarKspIrIT, tera, Sacred Phoenix of Nephthys, cascol3, RocklifeDude, blackcurrent, nikitabell, Rana, chocolaTTelover, winter-of-discontent, Jesuslovesus, TheOtakuSupreme, and Daddys little crazy bitch.**_** I can't reply when people aren't logged in so I shall reply to those here ^^;**

**tera : **ah, it is sad isn't it? Although it doesn't really get better in this chapter either… Haha, I don't particularly like Ginny, but I don't really hate her either. She's just always come across as really…desperate…to me. And in the way. And I'm so sorry about the long wait orz

**Rana : **yes, there will be about thirty hopefully…. And I'll probably only finish by the time I'm thirty at this rate orz. Sorry for the long wait, I will make a valiant effort to be faster orz.

**I'm also thinking that I should stop being so lazy and log in more often so I can actually reply to things in a timely manner. Although if I did that, I'd get confused and probably reply multiple times to the same people without realizing. Actually, I might do that anyway… Oh, the woes of an idiot.**

…**Reading my comments, I realize my pre-story section could just comprise of "sorry sorry sorry I'm stupid sorry sorry sorry…" and it would amount to the same thing /facepalms**

**Anyway, on to the fic, in which Draco spends most of his time dragging a semi-reluctant Harry through abandoned corridors!**

**Thank you for reading, Hope you enjoy ~**

**- Flammy**

AoAoAoAoAo

'"_Ginny, will you be my girlfriend?" He asked soberly, taking her hands in his in an attempt to be romantic. Ginny let out an unintelligible scream and wrenched her hands away, instead tossing them around his neck and dragging him into a deep kiss. As her tongue probed into her mouth, tried to ignore how wrong this felt, and how much he'd rather be in this position with a certain blonde Slytherin instead.'_

Harry awkwardly wrapped his arms around the redheads slender body as he tentatively returned the kiss. He tried desperately to ignore the fact that, not only was this kiss doing nothing for him, but he felt a vague sense of queasiness at the press of her breasts into his chest. Thankfully, Ginny herself didn't seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm in reacting to her advance, likely too focussed on the pleasure she was deriving from it.

Eventually she pulled back, gazing at the brunette with shining eyes. Harry smiled at the look, using her obvious joy to justify to himself his rejection of Draco. He had no right leaving her for the blonde, after all he had done, and she certainly deserved to be happy. He caught her hand in his own, causing her to beam, and led her from the classroom, trying to ignore the aching in his gut that made him want to curl up somewhere and scream for denying himself the Malfoy heir. It made it worse knowing that he could have had him, that Draco had been offering himself, willing, to Harry, and he had denied the opportunity he had never thought he'd had, and would certainly never have again.

But what's done was done, Harry reminded himself. His stomach responded by giving a lurch and making him feel queasy. He grimaced, causing Ginny to turn questioning eyes to him and ask if he was alright. He swallowed, trying to settle his roiling belly, and turned a weak smile to her before assuring her that he was just dandy. She accepted the lie with a smile and turned to wave to Ron and Hermione who were just now exiting the Great Hall. They both looked up, and, catching sight of Ginny's overjoyed expression, beamed. Only Hermione seemed to catch on to Harry's unease, and her eyes narrowed slightly but she remained thankfully silent.

"About time mate!" Came Ron's voice as he made his way over, grinning from ear to ear. "I thought you two'd never get back together!" He clapped Harry roughly on the back, causing the shorter boy to stumble slightly, and beamed at his sister. The younger Weasley smiled brightly again and blushed slightly, and once more caught Harry's hand in her own. Harry resisted the sudden urge to shake it off and fought back a grimace as his stomach monster attacked again with a vengeance.

Hermione's eyes strayed again to Harry's face, but she turned quickly away, smiling at Ginny. "That's great you two, congratulations," she said warmly, pulling the younger girl into a hug. Ginny returned her smile, and Harry couldn't help but feel there was more being said than the simple 'Thanks 'Mione' that was uttered.

Shrugging it off, the spectacled Gryffindor tuned back in as the resident bookworm released Ginny from the embrace, turning a beaming smile to the rest of the trio. "So, who's up for doing some homework?" she chirped, earning disapproving groans from the remainder of the Gryffindors gathered.

"No way!" Ron replied loudly, rolling his eyes at his beloved's antics. He slung a long arm around her slender shoulders and winked theatrically at the others. "In fact, I think you need a break from homework, and some Exploding Snap is just what the doctor ordered!" And with that, he swept the girl off her feet and marched her in a princess lift toward the stairwell that would take them back to the Gryffindor tower.

Harry caught Ginny's eye, and for once felt perfectly at ease returning her grin before the pair of them set off behind their companions, eager to be back in the Gryffindor tower for very different reasons. Harry longed to have the time to sit in front of the warm fire and familiar comfort of the Gryffindor common room and forget about his awful day. Ginny was excited to return so that she could attempt to lure the scruffy hero into his bedroom and potentially have some fun before bedtime came rolling around.

The four Gryffindors trooped up the stairs, presently reaching the portrait that concealed their common room. She smiled indulgently at them, a smile which strangely faltered a little upon seeing Ginny and Harry before it grew again. "Afternoon," she greeted, a greeting which was echoed by the little crowd before her.

"Twiddledumkins," Hermione stated, and the canvas swung forward. Ron smiled slightly and finally let Hermione down. As she scrambled through the hole, Harry couldn't help but marvel at Ron's strength for carrying her up all those stairs. The elder of the two Weasleys scrambled through next, followed by his younger sister. She waved her behind in what she considered a tantalizing manner as she made her way through the space, trying to catch Harry's attention as he followed behind her. Her effort was in vain, however, as Harry didn't even notice her shaking her arse.

They tumbled through into the warm common room, and immediately Ginny turned to help Harry up, her hand lingering on his as they followed their friends across the room to the group of seats clustered about the fireplace. Ron immediately sat and pulled out a deck of Exploding Snap, holding it above his head and crowing "A celebratory game of Exploding Snap for Harry and Ginny!" Hermione chuckled, Harry flushed, and Ginny beamed as the crowd in the common room turned to stare at them.

They idled away the remainder of the evening playing Exploding Snap and chatting, and Harry felt a warm bubble surrounding him, the familiarity of the activities driving away the horrible stomach clenching feeling that had been gnawing away at him ever since he had turned Draco away. For the first time that day, he felt nothing but joy and love as he looked into the faces of his friends.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Draco could hear footsteps pounding nearby, but they didn't register in his state of half-sleep. The blond was laying on his bed, belly down as the pain in his rear had finally caught up with him and was now aching something awful. He had dozed off some fifteen minutes ago after lying here and willing the ache to quit.

Suddenly, a loud sound rang through the room, finally causing the Slytherin Prince to stir. Moaning inwardly, Draco slowly turned around only to be enveloped in a warm pair of arms. He fell back, wincing as it put pressure on his abused behind.

"Pans?" He murmured drowsily, blinking and trying to make out the figure of his dark haired friend. Upon hearing his voice, Pansy promptly drew away from him. The girl turned Draco around and pulled him so that he was seated opposite from her, allowing her to inspect him for injuries. Her eyes widened as she took in his ruined clothes and dishevelled state, but before she could get in a word about it, the door opened yet again.

"Hey Pans, wh- Oh. I see Draco's back." Blaise Zabini nodded to Draco in greeting. Draco simply looked at him dumbly, which caused Blaise to smirk slightly. "You had Pans in a right tizzy, disappearing like that. I had to forcibly drag her to get something to eat, and I'm sure she was planning on tearing down the school to find you."

Pansy scowled at the Italian and huffed. "Blaise, get out of here!" She ordered. "I need to talk to Dray alone. Now shoo." Blaise narrowed his eyes slightly and gave Draco a warning look. The blond mentally rolled his eyes at the taller boys antics. He and Blaise weren't really friends, and would probably never even have talked if it wasn't for Pansy. Blaise had taken a shine to the girl sometime in the sixth year, and was attempting to court her. As Pansy's lifelong childhood friend, Draco found that this meant he and Blaise saw quite a lot of each other. This was fine with the blonde, as he didn't really feel either way for Blaise, and while Blaise seemed rather jealous of the time he spent with Pansy, the two of them got along decently enough.

"Now Blaise," Pansy stressed, her voice laden with warning, and the boy huffed and turned, leaving the room without a backward glance. The girl waved her wand carelessly, and Draco recognized the wordless silencing and locking charms she placed on the door. Knowing there was no getting out of this, the blonde gave a resigned sigh and sat up straighter, trying to mask his flinch at the renewed twinge of pain shooting up his spine.

Pansy's dark eyes narrowed and she folded her arms together, giving the blonde a glare to rival one of his fathers best. "Where were you?" She demanded, staring hard at his face for signs of lies that she was sure would come. "Did you have any idea how worried I was? What if some _Gryffindors_ or something had found you and beat you in an empty hallway, huh Dray? Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" The words tumbled from her mouth in a rush, growing louder as she went along. Draco quickly put his hand on her arm to placate her.

While clearly still not pleased, she calmed down enough for him to get a word in. He sighed and dragged himself closer to the girl, snatching his wand off the bedside table and giving it a careless wave that caused the drapes to fly shut around his bed, ensuring them some privacy. Pansy arched an eyebrow, but accepted his need for even more secrecy without comment.

"Pans…" he started, before pausing. How was he supposed to tell her what had happened, that he had slept with the one Gryffindor the entire Slytherin house had made a career out of hating. Sighing, he murmured, "I'm sorry for taking off," before lowering his head and pressing it into his hands. Pansy made a small noise that could have meant anything before gently placing her hand on Draco's shoulder.

"What happened Drakey?" She asked, correctly interpreting his body language. When the blonde simply shook his head and groaned she narrowed her eyes. "Is it Potter?" she queried, causing Draco to look up, eyes wide.

"Potter?" He repeated, heart beating a rhythm both nervous and painful at the name. "W-Why would it be Potter?" She couldn't know could she? He had kept his feelings for the bespectacled boy tightly under wraps. One glance at her, however, told him that the dark haired girl had him figured out. Sighing, he leant back again. "How long have you known?" He whispered in a resigned tone.

"Oh, forever," she replied, waving it off, "but that's not what's important here, Draco, what happened?"

It was relieving, he decided, not to have to explain his feelings for the world's Golden Boy. Inhaling deeply, he nodded slightly. "It was Ha- uh, that is, it was Potter," he affirmed. Pansy's eyes widened, and she angled her body more toward the blonde and leaned forward, trying to hold back the obvious enthusiasm.

"Oh my god," she breathed, "What happened?"

Draco rolled his eyes at her eagerness. Pansy didn't seem to notice his reaction, her eyes shining with curiosity, and the blonde couldn't hide a small smile. After everything that had happened, the tiny bit of normalcy that the brunette brought was extremely welcome. "We…umm…well, we just…" he trailed of, frowning, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Well, that is to say, we-"

"Sweet Merlin, Drakey, you shagged didn't you!" He was cut off by the brunette's enthused shrieking. Wincing, the blonde added a silencing charm to the curtains, just in case the ones she had placed on the door weren't strong enough, and sighed at her crass language. Pansy appeared to be engaging in some sort of silent excited fit and didn't notice. Draco watched her, an eyebrow raised, and sat patiently until she sobered up a bit.

Eventually, she quit her fangirling and straightened up, staring at Slytherin's Ice Prince. He watched her warily as her eyes suddenly narrowed, and before another thought could cross his mind, her ringed hand swung up and slapped him hard across the face.

"Draco, you tosser, how could you? You absolute barmy twat! What were you thinking?" She yelled, causing the blonde to twitch backwards, confused at her abrupt change in attitude. The girl seemed to be working herself into even more of a tizzy, frustration glinting in her dark eyes. "Why would you do such a thing Drakey?" She eventually let out in a moan, throwing up her hands in aggravation. "You knew this couldn't work out!"

Draco made a distressed sound and buried his head in his hands. "I know," he cried out, the sound muffled by his pale palms. He remained silent and still a moment before reluctantly looking up at her. "But he told me he loved me Pans," he whispered, catching her eyes with his own silvery ones. Hers softened and she caught his arms gently.

"Aww, Drakey, then what happened?" She asked, her eyes widening. Sighing, he lowered his head again and shook it, his light tresses swaying smoothly from side to side.

"I…I don't know," he whispered, blinking back tears. "He was drunk and-" here he paused and held up a hand, silencing the outburst that he sensed coming from the girl sitting beside him. She settled back down, her dark eyes swirling, but remained silent. "I know it was …bloody stupid of me," he added, earning himself a 'damn straight'.

Frowning at the girl, Draco continued. "But he just…he was so sincere Pans, I know he meant it!" He raised his beseeching eyes to the slight female sitting before him. "And then, the next morning he…I… he kicked me out. But…I really think he likes me Pans! He's just…hiding or something."

Silence met his speech, and Draco swallowed lightly before daring another peek at the female sitting before him. He was met with an expression of absolute pity that had him frowning in return. He didn't need pity. He was going to sort this kerfluffle out with Potter the next morning, and force the bespectacled boy to admit his true feelings. There was no call for the look that graced the girls feminine features. Frowning, he endeavoured to let her know this.

"I'm going to talk to him tomorrow," he stated, watching her reaction. Her lips parted a bit and her eyes widened, but before she could speak, he continued. "I'm going to talk to him, make him realize he doesn't need to hide. I'll show him what he's missing."

A weak smile replaced her surprised expression. "You never were one for humility, huh Drakey?" She murmured softly, before shaking her head and staring at him. "This can only end badly, you do know that? You don't need to do this Draco. Just forget about Potter. Don't let him hurt you anymore. You know this won't work. He's far too noble to even consider being with you."

Trying not to let his hurt at these words show, the Slytherin Prince shook his head stubbornly. "He let it happen once," he whispered, an air of determination coating his words, "and I'm certain there's a chance that he'd give me another shot." He steadfastly ignored the way the pitying look crept back into his friends eyes at his words, and shook off her gentle hand that came to rest on his arm.

"Always were too stubborn for your own good," she sighed, ignoring the blonde's attempts to shake her off and pulling him into a hug. "Don't expect me to cry with you when he dumps you," she warned, and yet Draco could tell it was an empty threat. He knew that if things went wrong, despite it being his own fault, the girl would sit with him and hold him while he cried. It was one of the great many things he loved about her, the friend he never did anything to deserve. Closing his eyes, the young Malfoy heir allowed himself to drift off into the warm and loving embrace.

X0X0X0X0X0X

_Soft, pale hands slid over his back, reaching downward to cup his firm arse. Pale pink lips, tender and sweet as petals, met his in a bruising kiss that quickly deepened to teeth and tongue. Moaning hungrily, he sucked the delectable tongue into his mouth, relishing the feel of the moist muscle in his mouth. His stronger hands slid down his partners slender body, brushing past dusty pink nipples and pale, creamy skin to stroke the inside of milky thighs. His ministrations were met with whimpers of want, as his lover arched into his touch. _

"_What do you want?" he whispered, moving his nose to the exotic creature's neck. "Tell me what you want, baby. Say it to me." The one beneath him replied, but it was lost in the moans and gasps of need and pleasure that were also being emitted. He chuckled, moving his firm hands higher on the inside of those pale thighs. "What was that?" Came his pleasured croon. "You'll have to speak up, my darling."_

"_I…I want you to…fuck me," came the needy gasp. He allowed himself a smirk, his green eyes meeting the silver grey of his lovers._

"_As you wish," he whispered in return, as he slid his hand down, past the pale peach fuzz balls and circling the twitching hole. _

"_Please Harry!" Cried the blonde, fair hands flying up to latch into his dark thatch of hair, and he grinned a feral grin as he got ready to plunge his finger into the pulsing pale flesh. "Harry, Harry Harry Harry Harry HARRY _HARRY HARRY!"

Harry sat up with a gasp, the vision of the breathtaking blonde vanishing to be replaced with the bright common room, lit brilliantly by the morning sun.

"Blimey mate, you alright?" Came a voice from somewhere to his right, and Harry lifted his head, pulling on his glasses. Ron was standing there, regarding him with a confused look. "You moaned so much in your sleep," here he looked around shiftily, before lowering his voice and adding in a conspiratorial whisper, "wasn't another nightmare was it?"

Harry blinked stupidly at the redhead for a second before shaking his head with a sigh. "It's fine, Ron," he mumbled, knowing that by saying that, he had ensured that the redhead would believe that it had indeed been a nightmare. It was better than the alternative of having to tell him the truth.

His friend, as predicted, looked sceptical but accepted the answer with a nod. "So…" he hedged, shifting uncomfortably. "You need some time to…umm…wake up and all. I'll just go head Hermione off then, shall I?" He gave the dark haired hero a sympathetic look before turning and exiting the room. Harry smiled at how thoughtful his friend was, trying to give him time to get himself together before having to face Hermione and her ever-quick eye.

"Right," he agreed, smiling weakly. "Thanks Ron," he added, watching as the redhead turned and exited the room. Then he let out a puff of air, falling backwards onto his soft bed. His mind was immediately tugged back to the dream he had been having, and he fervently thanked Merlin that Ron had not noticed his aching erection that was, admittedly, hidden beneath his covers. That dream had been so much more vivid than any he had had before, every sense elevated. He had been able to feel the silky smooth feel of Draco's skin, the one he knew to be true from when he had touched the blonde merely a morning ago. The scent of Draco's fair skin and hair, his winning smile, the soft silvery locks, his beautiful moans. It had all been so clear, so realistic, and he couldn't help but feel that his subconscious had been drawing on forgotten memories to craft that dream.

He reached down to grip his erection, which was straining against his pants, and held back a moan. Carefully, he locked and silenced his curtains before lying back and pleasuring himself, thoughts of Draco running through his mind the whole time. Finally finishing, Draco's name slipping from his lips, the hero sank bonelessly into the bed. His thoughts were occupied completely by the Slytherin prince that he had rejected so callously yesterday, and, in his post-orgasmic bliss, he couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't acted too rashly. If he hadn't turned him away…well, he wouldn't have had to make do with his hand and a fantasy.

X0X0X0X0X0X

The bright morning sun that graced the Gryffindor common room didn't ever reach the serpent house, dissipated by the ever-chilly lake before it breached very far below the surface. Down in the dungeons, the inhabitants of the Slytherin house were woken instead by a multitude of alarms that had been set in order to compensate for the lack of morning light.

Draco stirred sleepily as he felt a light rapping on the top of his head. Blinking balefully in the dim room, he dragged his body up from the mattress, catching his wand as it attempted to rap him again. Sighing, he swung his legs off the bed and snatched open the curtains. Growling in annoyance at the early morning noise emitted by the many alarms, he made his way across the dorm to the boys bathrooms and started on his morning routines. Behind him, the door swung open and Blaise entered, nodding a groggy good morning to the sleepy blonde. Draco returned the greeting in kind and swept into the shower, humming slightly to himself.

By the time he left the bathrooms, everything about his person perfectly in place, the common room was empty. Used to this, the blonde exited silently and made his solitary way up to the Great Hall, where breakfast was in full swing. "Morning," he murmured, slipping in beside Pansy. She returned the greeting, tipping a couple of eggs into his plate. The blonde wrinkled his nose at the food, and helped himself to some pieces of cut fruit instead.

"Draco, you can't just eat fruit all the time," she huffed, rolling her eyes at the boy. Draco just smirked at her.

"Do you know unhealthy egg yolks are? You shouldn't have them so often," he retorted, neatly cutting said yolks away from his egg. Pansy rolled her eyes yet again and turned back to her own breakfast, snorting into her pumpkin juice. The blonde often tended to resort to a strange combination of weight-watching and desserts when he was upset or nervous, and it had always been a source of great amusement to his classmate. Draco ignored her and nibbled at his fruit slices, his argent gaze floating across to the messy haired boy who sat across the hall, digging into bacon and sausages with abandon.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he thought about facing the boy later today, and he slowly lowered his fruit back to the plate. Green eyes flashed up to meet his, and Draco dropped his gaze nervously, pushing his food around the plate. He could feel Pansy's eyes on him, but he studiously ignored her gaze. Across the hall, Harry tore his eyes away from the blonde Slytherin and returned to chatting with the redhead seated beside him.

Huffing, Draco pushed aside his food and resisted the urge to flee the room. He was a Malfoy, for Circe's sake, not some pansy boy who got afraid over _talking_ to someone. However, that did not seem to be able to bring back his appetite and stop his stomach from roiling rebelliously, and he couldn't help but glare slightly at the Saviour, blaming the messy haired hero for his own current predicament.

It was a while later when a hand landed heavily on his shoulder, causing him to start and tear his gaze away from the Gryffindor that he was currently pining after. His silvery eyes met Pansy's dark ones, and she tilted her head towards the doors of the Great Hall.

"If you've quite finished ogling Potter," she began, "we have a class to attend. Unless you intend to pick up his tardiness as well?" Draco scowled darkly at her, rising gracefully from his seat and following her as she swept from the hall. Behind him, the three Gryffindors lagged, obviously reluctant to rush down to the dungeons for their least favourite subject. Or at least, that was probably what Weasel and Harry were after. One could only wonder how they and the Mudblood became friends.

Stepping through the stone doorframe in the chill, sombre, dungeons, Draco let out a nearly inaudible sigh. Potions, once his favourite subject, now served only to upset him as it brought back painful memories of his late godfather, and how much greater a teacher he was than the buffoon in charge now. Sighing, he settled in his usual seat at the back of the classroom, Pansy arranging herself beside him, with Blaise and Theodore on the other side of her. The blonde ignored the three of them, instead turning his narrowed eyes on Slughorn as he panted his way into the classroom, beaming at the members of his esteemed "Slug Club". Draco directed a sneer at the man and pulled open his Potions textbook, ignoring Slughorn's friendly smile.

Ever since he had come back for his seventh year and found he didn't have to worry about the Dark Lord in his home, Death Eaters roaming the school, and nearly impossible tasks with his family on the line, he had picked up his knack for potions once more. He still loved the art of potions, and when he did it, he felt closer to Severus than he ever had before. Slughorn, upon finding that the blonde did indeed have a talent for the craft, had set about attempting to invite the boy to his Slug Club, but Draco was having none of it. He hated Slughorn, whom he felt a poor replacement for his favourite teacher, and blamed him for his negative feelings toward this class.

At that moment, his thoughts were interrupted by the door flying open, admitting the Golden Trio who rushed into the room in a rather harried manner. They raced to their seats, acknowledged by Slughorn with indulgent smiles and nods each. It would seem that playing major roles in defeating the Dark Lord did great things for earning you favour in the eyes of the man. Even Longbottom was now back in his Slug Club, for Merlin's sake.

Clearing his throat, Slughorn commanded his attention again. Frowning, Draco watched as he delved into the lesson, explaining the next complicated potion that they were to be studying. The blonde paid only enough attention to criticize everything the man said, comparing it to how his mentor would have taught the material. Beside him, Pansy scribbled frantically, copying Slughorn's every word. Draco rolled his eyes at her, earning himself an evil glare. Ignoring it, he rested his chin on his palms and proceeded to spend the remainder of Slughorn's instruction segment staring at the back of Potter's head, plotting ways to get the two of them alone so that they could talk.

"Alright, go and select your ingredients and get to work," Slughorn cried out, finally wrapping up his unnecessarily lengthy speech with a clap of his hands. Draco released a relieved breath, leaping to his feet with the grace of a gazelle and loping across the back of the classroom to the supply cupboard. He selected the necessary ingredients, being sure to grab extra of each and depositing some in front of Pansy, Blaise, and Theo as well.

His potion was a light coral pink colour well before the class was over, and Draco leant back into his chair lazily. His private lessons with Severus had long since taught him shortcuts that yielded just as good, if not better, results in a much shorter time. Beside him, Pansy was pouring over her cauldron, whose contents were slowly turning the muddy brown that told Draco she was doing the potion correctly in the time frame they were allotted. And across the room, Potter was frowning down at his acid green concoction, clearly stumped as to what should be done to it to salvage it. Draco considered going over and telling him exactly which steps would be best for his potion at the moment, but was distracted as an angry spitting emitted from the Weasel's cauldron beside the Golden Boy.

Three pairs of eyes widened at the sight of bright yellow sparks leaping from the smoking cauldron. Slughorn yelled something illegible as he withdrew his wand, Hermione Granger screamed at the room in general to 'Duck!', and Draco seized his cauldron of perfect potion from the table and took it with him as he cowered beneath the table.

A loud explosion rattled the room, accompanied by a chorus of shrieks and the horrid crashes of cauldrons being dropped from their tables due to the outward force emitted by the blast. Volatile potions hit the floor in various states of completion, and some began to react in their own ways. It wasn't long before the whole room was filled with an angry hiss, smoke curling through the space and protecting the individuals from each others eyes. Slughorn's voice sounded out, stuttering out instructions and tripping over his own tongue.

Draco cautiously cast a protective bubble over his cauldron and grabbed it, moving nervously through the smoke in the direction he knew the door to be. Focussed on carting the cauldron as he was, the blonde didn't notice the smoke-hidden obstruction in his path until he hit into it. As he stumbled, hands came to his sides, as much to steady the other party as it was to steady him. The Slytherin wobbled slightly in their arms, bringing up one of his own hands to cling to the rough shirt in front of him.

The stench was growing worse, and Draco found that he was beginning to grow dizzy. He needed to get out of this room, and stat. Not bothering to let go of the person that he had found refuge in, he steered the other toward the door. He was met with only minor resistance before the other party realized what he was doing and went along with him quietly. They encountered no more obstacles on their path to the exit, and soon found themselves coughing out in the corridor. Draco made a show of checking that his potion had not been harmed, and it was only when he had assured himself that it was fine that he peered upwards at the person he had brought along with him.

The startled verdant gaze that met his promptly made him drop his precious cauldron. "H-Harry?" Came the weak sputter, and inwardly Draco cursed himself for it. Harry averted his eyes instantly and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"H-Hey Draco," he replied, still refusing to catch the blonde's gaze. Abruptly, he turned on his heel. "I…I had better get going," he stated quickly, starting to make his way down the corridor. Behind him, Draco could hear the remainder of the class finally realizing that they needed to leave the room and begin shuffling toward the door. Panicking that his chance to speak with his crush was fading, he darted forward and caught the other boy's arm.

"What're you doing?" Came Harry's angry cry, but the Slytherin paid him no attention. Instead, he dragged the world's Golden Boy down the dark corridor, making a turn into another little hall, and then another. Indeed, by the end of it all, the Boy Who Conquered was quite truly lost. And seeing that this was the case, Draco threw caution into the wind, spun him about and pushed him against the wall before standing on his toes and pressing his lips to Harry's.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Harry's eyes closed as those beautiful lips that he had tasted only that morning in his dreams pressed against his. Heat boiled up through his blood and rushed straight to his brain, and he rushed to return the kiss, harsh and bruising. Draco let out a little whimper as he reached up to grip Harry's shoulder tightly, as if clinging on for dear life. Harry smirked as the blonde opened his mouth and accepted the Gryffindor's questing tongue. Fuelled by the moan the Slytherin emitted, the Golden Boy shoved him forward, slamming him bodily against the wall opposite and continuing to ravage his mouth with his own tongue.

They tangled their tongues together for a few more minutes, before Harry grabbed the blondes slender legs, lifting them and wrapping them around his waist. Draco gasped into his mouth as Harry thrust against him, before wrapping his arms about Harry and tangling his hands in his hair. Harry smiled triumphantly into the kiss before he shifted the blonde in his arms, sliding his hands down the back of the other boys pants. Draco moaned in return, pushing harder against Harry. Unfortunately, it proved to be too hard when Harry stumbled and the pair of them fell over into the corridor.

Harry let out a little yelp as he felt the blonde's warm weight land on him. Draco, in turn, hummed contentedly and nuzzled his nose into Harry's neck, placing a little kiss on the heated skin there. Harry shuddered at the feeling, before flipping Draco over and sliding his hands up under his shirt. The blonde wriggled beneath him, finding a more comfortable position for himself before wrapping his arms about the scarred boy's neck and pulling him in closer for another breathtaking kiss.

They lay in the empty corridor snogging for what seemed like eternity, but in reality was merely a few minutes, before the sound of voices somewhere in the vicinity snapped Harry to his senses. The brunette sat bolt upright in alarm, his wide verdant eyes surveying the hallway to assure himself that nobody had seen the pair of them. Beneath him, Draco dragged himself up onto his elbows.

"Harry," he started, but silenced when the younger boy held up his hand. Harry's eyes remained trained on the end of the corridor where the voices had sounded, and he only relaxed when they faded away. He heaved a sigh of relief that they hadn't been caught, and lifted his body from the slim one that rested beneath it.

"Harry," Draco repeated, catching said Gryffindor's eye in a determined gaze, "we need to talk." Harry gulped, nodding slightly and helping the pale boy to his feet. This was the part where Draco hexed his balls off for that horrible treatment he had received the night before. And he knew without a doubt that he deserved it. There would be no second chances for him. It was only cruel of the boy to give him that tantalizing taste of what he could have had should he not have been such an idiot.

Draco was shifting feet, looking uncomfortable. He didn't, however, drop his striking silver gaze. "Look Harry," he started, and his voice held only the slightest of wavers to show his nerves. "I really like you. I have for a while now. And what happened two nights ago…that was the closest to happy I've been in years." His voice softened and he stepped closer to the dark haired lad. "I don't regret it Harry. And I know deep down, you don't either. We both want this…so why don't you give us a chance?" Another step closer, and Harry could feel the soft puffs of breath crossing from the blonde's pale lips to his own. "You said you loved me," the Slytherin added in a whisper, his pleading eyes boring into Harry's.

The Gryffindor in question stood as if shell-shocked, his mind racing. He had been so prepared for rejection and anger that he was not sure how to respond to this. It hadn't even crossed his mind that the blonde might offer him another chance - after all, what reason did he have to? That he was being offered this chance…Harry knew he didn't deserve it, and knowing that he almost certainly wouldn't get it again, he couldn't help himself. Reaching forward, he grabbed the front of the blonde's robes and dragged him forward the few steps required to close the distance between them.

Their lips met again in a feverous kiss and Harry seized the Slytherin's rear, pulling him against himself and grinding them together. His actions were met with another delicious whimper, but when Harry attempted to deepen the kiss, he found himself being shoved back. Shocked, he looked up at the pale boy in front of him. The Slytherin's countenance displayed an array of emotions that ranged from scared through aroused to determined.

"Harry," came his whisper, and the boy in question shuddered at the sweet sound of his name dropping from those beautiful, kiss-reddened lips. "Harry, I need an answer. This cannot continue if…if you are not prepared to try." His voice trailed away to nothingness and he peered at Harry through his long, pale blonde lashes.

Harry gulped, his adams apple bobbing in his throat and causing silver eyes to flicker momentarily towards it. A part of him screamed to just accept Draco's proposal then and there, because this was the last chance he was going to get and he would be miserable if he didn't take it. The logical part that was trying to argue it with facts regarding public reaction, Weasley feelings, and Draco's Death Eater actions was growing ever quieter, silenced by the pounding need to feel those soft lips beneath his own.

"Draco, I-" he began, but is words were cut off when he heard his name being called from somewhere nearby. Two heads snapped toward the end of the hallway where the sound had come from, two pairs of eyes widening almost simultaneously. The name echoed again, closer this time, and Harry recognized Ron's voice, followed by Hermione's higher pitched call. _'Shit'_ was the first thing Harry thought as he stepped away from Draco. He had been missing for quite some time now, he supposed, and it only made sense that his friends were worried. He didn't know how long they must have been searching for him.

Automatically, he began to hurry in the direction of the voices. Behind him Draco made a small noise, possibly in attempt to stop him, but the brunette ignored the sound. The last thing he needed was for his friends to find him here with the infamous Slytherin.

"I'm here!" He called, rounding the corner into yet another corridor. He heard relieved replies, and then Ron and Hermione were hurling around another corner and rushing toward him, panting. Ron rushed up to Harry, babbling some apology whilst checking him for injuries, while Hermione crossed her arms and examined the Boy Who Lived with narrow eyes. Harry was suddenly very aware of his rumpled clothing and swollen lips, and nervously shifted away from Ron and diverted his gaze to the floor.

"Where'd you get to mate?" Questioned the redhead, his general obliviousness preventing him from detecting his friends sudden unease. "After the explosion, me and 'Mione had to get to the Hospital Wing, but we didn't see you there. It didn't knock you out or anything did it?" He looked at Harry earnestly, imploring him with his eyes to say that he was okay. Harry chuckled.

"Nah, I didn't get knocked out. I was just a bit disoriented and wandered off I guess. Nothing to worry about," he replied, trying to play it cool. Ron seemed to buy it, but Hermione's eyes narrowed further and she stepped closer to the hallway that Harry had left Draco in. Harry's heart leapt through his throat as she peered into the corridor, but apparently the Slytherin had left at some point, for though she carried a disgruntled expression as she pulled back, she made no accusations toward him.

The trio made their way up to the Gryffindor common room, Ron excitedly explaining exactly how the accident had managed to get the entire seventh year out of classes for the remainder of the day, and Hermione still retaining a stiff silence. Harry was slightly worried about the latter, but he put it out of mind and instead focussed on Ron as the redhead regaled him with tales of grotesque growths and an immensely irate Madam Pomfrey.

The conversation carried them all the way up to the Fat Lady's portrait, where Hermione suddenly intervened. "Oh, I just realized!" She gasped, clapping her hand to her forehead. "I need a couple of books for my essay in Transfiguration! Harry, why don't you come help me carry them while Ron grabs us our usual seats by the fire?"

Harry looked helplessly at Ron, but the redhead seemed to find no fault in his girlfriend's words as he nodded easily and spoke the password. The Golden Boy had no choice but to comply as his bushy haired friend grabbed his arm and dragged him back toward the staircase. As anticipated, instead of taking him down to the library, the girl tugged him harshly into an empty classroom and shut the door. He took the moment before she spun to face him to compose his face into an expression that was hopefully one of alarm and curiosity. One look from her, however, told the brunette that his friend had seen right through it.

"H-hey Hermione," he hedged weakly, offering her a small smile. Her eyes narrowed, clearly not appreciating the effort.

"Don't you 'Hey Hermione' me Harry Potter," she ordered, her small hands flying to rest on her hips as she assumed a position of fury. "I want to know exactly who you were with in that corridor!"

"W-with?" Harry stammered, running a strong hand through his messy locks nervously, "I…I wasn't _with_ anyone Hermione, why would you think that?" He fixed her with a beseeching gaze, which didn't fool her in the slightest if her quiet fuming was anything to go by.

"Would you play me for a fool Harry?" She demanded, stepping closer to him and jabbing his chest with a surprisingly painful finger. "I know you were snogging someone in that corridor. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I…uh….I didn't-" Harry began, still stammering as he tried to get out a denial, but once again the bookworm cut him off.

"Don't you lie to me!" She shouted, her voice growing shrill in her agitation. "What about Ginny, Harry? How could you do this to her?" Harry winced at that, feeling a shard of guilt slice right through his heart. Hermione relentlessly continued, her voice softer now though containing an angry quality that had Harry paying attention to every word. "Do you know how often she would come crying to me because she thought you didn't want her? Do you have _any idea_ how hard she's tried to get your attention these past few months? She hardly slept some nights worrying about you, she didn't eat, she cried all the time!"

The girl continued ranting, and Harry couldn't help but hang his head, the guilt coming back tenfold to gnaw at his insides. He had known that he had been doing Ginny wrong, but he hadn't realized how bad it had been. Hearing this, he couldn't believe how heartless he had been. And to think he had almost accepted Draco's offer. He realized now that he could never do that. Ginny had always been so sweet and kind and loving to him, and they made perfect sense together. Draco was the son of a Death Eater and a Death Eater himself, Harry's bully throughout Hogwarts, and a bigoted, arrogant jerk who thought he could just waltz into Harry's life and claim him as a prize.

Besides, he could love Ginny. He loved her already as a sister, and didn't most people fall in love after living together anyway? And she was certainly not unattractive by anyone's standards. Yes, he would be together with Ginny and everything would be as it should. Nodding decisively to himself, the Golden Boy tuned back in to Hermione just as she was wrapping up her speech.

"…and I really think you should at least tell her if you're not interested, Harry, because she doesn't deserve this." The brunette finished, fixing her friend with an expectant eye. Harry met her gaze this time, his mind made up.

"You don't have to worry about that Hermione," he replied, amazed by how calm his own voice was, "I love Ginny and I'm going to make her happy. I promise, that was a one time thing, and really I didn't even plan or initiate it. But I'm going to show Ginny how much I love her tonight." At those words, Hermione's eyes widened and her face turned rather red.

"O-Oh," she stuttered, and Harry, realizing how that had sounded also turned red. He was about to clarify that he just meant to have a heart-to-heart, but Hermione had apparently decided this was just too awkward and stumbled back to the door. "Umm, we should probably head back," she whispered, pushing open the door with one hand. "R-Ron will be worried and all…" And with that she was gone, her hurried footsteps echoing down the hall.

Harry trailed after her, his mind on what had just happened. Hermione had thought he meant to shag Ginny. Honestly, the thought had never once crossed his mind, but now his brain worried it like a dog with a bone. Shagging her would certainly put everybody's worries to bed, and perhaps it would get his own thoughts away from Draco. This couldn't possibly be a bad thing, his mind decided. A distraction like that was just what they all needed.

The Gryffindor quickly exited the classroom and made his solitary way up the corridor, stopping outside the large portrait that concealed the entrance to his common room. He was greeted by the Fat Lady with an exuberant 'Hello' to which he replied in kind before uttering the password and smiling as he was granted admittance. Clambering through the portrait hole, he quickly caught sight of Ron and Hermione in their favourite arm chairs by the fire, Ron twiddling his quill and looking bored whilst Hermione was bent over a book, her doubtlessly still flushed face hidden by her long curtains of frizzy hair.

"Hey," he greeted, dumping himself next to Ron, who grinned at the prospect of having company that was not immersed in a book.

"What took you so long mate?" He questioned, ignoring Hermione's irritated huff as he misbalanced her book with his knee.

"Went to the loo," Harry mumbled in reply, glancing around the common room for Ginny. When no more flashes of distinctive red hair popped out at him, he turned back to his friend, who eyed him curiously but did not comment. The pair fell back into their easy routine of chatting to each other whilst attempting to get Hermione to do as much of their homework as possible.

Ginny entered the common much later, and upon seeing the Trio immediately flounced over to join them. Harry and Hermione greeted her conversationally while Ron immediately took to bragging about the fact that they had had the day off whereas she had been forced to remain in class. A light banter ensued that carried them all the way through to dinnertime, and continued as they made their long way down to the Great Hall.

As they walked, Harry's mind returned to the conversation he and Hermione had had earlier. Watching Ginny closely, he could see the way her eyes flickered to him every so often as though checking he were still there, and he felt another wave of guilt rising up through his gut. Swallowing it down again, he stepped closer to her and, on impulse, caught her swinging hand in his own and held on. The girl reacted by giving him a completely shocked look, which only served to increase the guilt, before swiftly replacing it with a beaming smile. Ignoring his heart screaming at him to just let her go and run to find Draco, he forced a smile in return and moved closer to his girlfriend. Hermione caught his eye and gave him an approving smile, whilst Ron continued his argument with his sister, oblivious to the new development.

When they entered the Great Hall, the bickering finally laid off as Ron turned with great interest to his food. Harry and Ginny seated themselves side by side, and Ginny planted a soft kiss on his cheek before turning to eye the offerings that the house elves had made to their table. Harry heard a loud wolf-whistle before Seamus slid into the seat across from him, giving him a large wink.

"Harry, I'm jealous!" He cried. The boy in question looked up at the Irishman, a small amused smile curving his lips, all set to tell the sandy-haired Gryffindor off when he caught sight of Draco strolling into the Hall. Immediately, his heart began pounding faster and his breath coming in short bursts. He wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his trousers and swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, as intense silver eyes lifted to meet his own.

Draco's pale lips twisted into a frown when he saw Harry beside Ginny, but it quickly disappeared as he sent Harry a smouldering look that made the Golden Boy want to leap across the Hall and take the Slytherin right there on the table. Beside him, Ginny's hand came to rest on top of his own, grabbing his attention momentarily. He gulped nervously again, and her brown eyes searched his before she dropped his hand and quietly asked him what was wrong.

"N-nothing," he stuttered, taking a swig of pumpkin juice and pretending he didn't feel Draco's eyes on him. No no, this wouldn't do! He was supposed to be with Ginny now. Quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, he leant over and placed a kiss on Ginny's cheek. Her eyes widened and she blushed, returning to her food with a delighted giggle and a coy whisper to behave in public. Forcefully refusing to allow himself to look back at the Slytherin who held him so enamoured, Harry finally began to tuck into his own plate, which had been helpfully filled for him by both Hermione and Ginny.

Dinner passed peacefully enough, with the pleasant conversation emanating from the girls around him occasionally interrupted by Ron slurping or Seamus interjecting a crass comment or two. These always seemed to offend Hermione, who would turn back to her food with an affronted sniff while the other four would share amused grins at her sensitivity. Around halfway through the dinner, Ginny's foot began to nudge at Harry's under the table, although she remained perfectly at ease, but for the coy glance she shot at him through her lashes now and again. Harry swallowed his initial urge to retreat his own foot and instead took her up upon her game beneath the table, to her obvious delight as she beamed into her pumpkin juice.

By the time the desserts came, the side of her body was pressed flush against him and neither of them were wearing shoes. Harry was trying his best to tell himself that no, this was not leading her on, as he fully intended to be her boyfriend and to even go all the way that night.

The end of dinner couldn't come soon enough for the Saviour, who had not partaken in a single dessert as his stomach was roiling in some sort of rebellion to who-knew-what. As soon as the last scraps of food disappeared from his friends' plates, he shot to his feet, earning himself startled looks from those around him. Ignoring them, he seized Ginny's hand and virtually tugged her from the Hall, suddenly wanting to get this over with so he could get over Malfoy.

The four teenagers traipsed back to the Gryffindor common room, far too slowly for Harry's liking. Well-fed and happy, the other three were in no rush and it took them nearly half an hour to return to the portrait that marked the entrance to their home in the school. Sighing with ill-concealed relief, Harry tumbled through the hole in the wall and was immediately helped up by his girlfriend. Forcing a grin at her, the Saviour planted a kiss on her lips that was quickly broken off when an affronted "Oi!" sounded from her brother as he too entered the common room.

"Get a room!" Seamus yelled, tumbling in behind Ron. Hermione followed, eyeing them curiously, while Harry smirked at Ginny.

"What say you we take them up on that offer, hmm?" He crooned at her. She caught on with an evil grin and nodded, sweeping up to Harry's dorm without hesitation. Harry followed her, laughing to himself at the slight purplish tinge that had taken over Ron's face while the redhead sputtered at the thought of his sister and Harry doing things in private. Before he could regain his voice, however, the pair of them had vanished behind the locked door.

Harry was still laughing as he locked the door and turned to face Ginny, who was echoing his mirth with her own. "Did you see his face?" She chortled, her eyes streaming with tears of laughter as she met his gaze. Harry could only nod, not able to get in a word around his own laughter as the pair of them moved closer to the door, simultaneously wanting to listen to Ron's reaction. A minute or two passed in which Ron was still clearly flabbergasted, before-

"WHAT ARE THEY DOING? GET THEM OUTTA THERE! COMMON 'MIONE! WHAT? STOP THAT! AAAGH-SEAMUS! HEY! NOT YOU TO HERMIONE!"

That was all they heard before their own peals of laughter drowned out the sound of Ginny's brother berating his friends for whatever they were doing to prevent him from storming the dormitory to rip his sister and her boyfriend apart from each other. Eventually, the giggles died down, and Ginny's eyes rose to meet Harry's again. Harry swallowed nervously at the look he saw in them, but didn't have time to react before she closed the distance between them to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

Ignoring the urge to leave it at that, Harry returned the kiss, reluctantly deepening it by swiping his tongue across the seam of her lips. They parted instantly, and as his tongue slid into her mouth, he was immediately struck by how different it felt kissing her. With Draco, it had been passionate, urgent, sexy, and just right all around. With Ginny, it was soft and sweet and all wrong, like he was kissing his sister. Harry determinedly stomped down the growing revulsion he was feeling and brought his hands to her arms, steering her gently back toward his own bed. He pushed her down on it and climbed on top of her, determined to make this happen so that everything would be right in the world.

A small smile appeared on the redhead's face as she placed a slim hand on the back of Harry's nest of hair, pulling his head down to meet in another snog. The pair of them lay there, making out, as Harry's hands fluttered to her blouse, hesitating a little before proceeding to rub and knead at her breasts. Ginny broke of the kiss with a moan, her hands leaving their previous positions to clutch at his shirt as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Harry gulped nervously as she canted her hips upward and rubbed herself against him. Desperately trying to get himself aroused, the brunet slipped open the buttons of his girlfriend's blouse, lowering his head to kiss the ample bosom that was revealed.

Rather than arousing him, however, the Saviour found that the action rather turned him off. Panicking, he slid his hands down her pants, fumbling as his fingers found her opening and praying that that, at least, would turn him on. Breasts and vaginas were supposed to be sexy weren't they? He wanted to cry when he found that this didn't excite him either. How was he supposed to make everything right when he couldn't get it up?

Ginny, it appeared, was beginning to become suspicious of Harry's problem, for her head began to raise, a question on her lips. The Golden Boy quickly cut that off with another fierce kiss as he tried desperately to arouse himself, making her moan in the process as his frantic hands tried all sorts of things. They were soon joined by his mouth when he found his attentions were not giving himself the desired result, and he lowered his face to her body which was now completely devoid of clothes.

The girl was panting his name, clearly aroused as her nipples were pert and her vagina wet, and yet Harry was still not even the slightest bit hard. She had reached up and begun to remove his clothes, and he was panicking now. There was no way he could hide his lack of arousal, and no way to explain it. Desperate to stall her for as long as he could, he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head before proceeding to ravage her collarbone with his mouth. Her collarbone, so imperfect compared to his Draco's. In fact, every bit of her paled in comparison to his blonde beauty.

It was only then, thinking of his pale Adonis, that Harry began to feel the slight stirring of his cock. At first, he was mortified. Harry, despite his cruel upbringing at the hands of the Dursleys, was a good person, and he felt that it was inherently wrong and immoral to fantasize about another person whilst having sex. But there was no other way to do this, and he needed to get it done. Ignoring the fact that the sex clearly was not going to help him get over Draco if it was said boy who was on his thoughts during the act in the first place, Harry resolved to put aside his morals for one night to get this on and please his girlfriend.

He redoubled his ministrations, he mind far away and focussed on porcelain skin and argent eyes. Having one of his best wanking fantasies about another man in the midst of attempting to shag the sister of his best friend was not how Harry had ever pictured himself behaving, but at this point he couldn't bring himself to care. He was beginning to get achingly hard, and it was all he could do not to remove his hands from Ginny's body and start stroking himself. That problem was somewhat solved when the redhead in question, who had somehow managed to free her arms from her boyfriend's vice grip, managed to wrest him free of his trousers and wrapped her hand around his shaft.

Although it brought him some relief, the tentative butterfly touches were not nearly as satisfying as when he took charge of his own erection, and Harry bit his lip to prevent himself from saying anything about it. A hand job was, after all, a hand job.

Ginny didn't seem to notice his minor dissatisfaction, and continued her stroking for a while before swallowing nervously and looking Harry in the eye. Without saying anything, she slowly started to lower her face, moving it nearer to Harry's aching cock, her lips parted slightly and ghosting her warm breath across the throbbing organ. It took the Golden Boy by surprise, having not expected to be getting head from sweet little Ginny, of all people, but he took it in stride, leaning back and spreading his legs.

The girl tenderly placed her lips around her boyfriend's leaking prick, her little tongue darting out to lick lightly at the tip, before she drew the flesh slowly into her mouth, sucking gently. Harry resisted the urge to thrust forward into her mouth and seek out more heat, instead rolling his head back and closing his eyes. In his mind, Ginny's red head was replaced by a startlingly blonde one, and he suddenly felt the need to tell his fantasy lover not to be so shy about the whole thing.

Ginny, as it turned out, was not particularly skilled in the art of blowjobs, and she choked often. Every time it happened, her face flushed a little redder, and she would retreat even more from the task in front of her, until eventually she just pulled off altogether, leaving Harry frustrated and unsatisfied. He slowly sat up, trying pathetically to hide his disappointment and feeling sure he was failing miserably. Luckily for him, however, Ginny didn't seem to notice as she was instead rummaging through the pockets of her discarded robe.

The hero sat up curiously, wondering what she was after, only to feel his eyes widen in shock, and a small amount of horror. Sat in her hand was a little package, containing what appeared to be a condom. She smiled shyly at him as she crawled back over, but he was too busy staring at the little thing to notice. It hadn't really occurred to him what he was about to do until this moment, and now he was terrified.

Once again, the redhead didn't appear to notice his hesitance. Instead, displaying an obliviousness to rival her brothers, she straddled his lap and began kissing him, grinding her naked loins against his own. Closing his eyes, Harry resolved to think of England as he forged ahead with this union.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Draco scowled darkly as Harry rushed away from him. Trust those fools he hung around with to interrupt them in such a crucial moment. Harry had been about to accept his proposal, he was sure of it! But of course, those buffoons would have to muck things up. Huffing to himself, the blonde turned and walked off in the opposite direction. He had no inclination toward coming face to face with Weasel and Mudblood after all.

The Slytherin Prince made his way through the dark and expansive dungeons, taking a longer-but-emptier route back to the Potions classroom. The room was empty save for Slughorn and Filch, who were apparently making some sort of joint effort to get the place cleaned up, much to Filch's apparent disgust. Draco stifled a snicker at the pair of them, instead turning to see if he could find what had become of his beloved cauldron of potion that he had created during the ill-fated class. He was in luck, it would seem, as the thing had merely rolled away into a corner. Being contained by the protective bubble he had cast earlier, the potion was now swirling about it a pink sphere with an overturned cauldron at the center.

Smirking at what he considered a major victory over every other member of the class, the haughty blonde siphoned the liquid into a vial with a flick of his wand, and retrieved his cauldron for cleaning. He then returned to the classroom door, this time drawing the attention of the two adults within with a sharp rap of his knuckles against the wood. Filch sneered at him, a sad attempt when faced with Draco's own, but Slughorn immediately smiled and made his way over, seemingly pleased that Draco had sought him out willingly.

"I had completed my potion before the accident, Professor, and thought to hand it in," the blonde stated smugly, handing the vial over to the overweight teacher. The man's eyes widened comically at the sight of the perfect potion that had been prepared in so little time, but he accepted it graciously.

"Ah, of course Mr. Malfoy. Excellent work as always, I daresay!" He hummed to himself for a moment, before continuing, "Of course, as the remainder of the class didn't finish, I believe it prudent that this would count toward bonus marks for you. As well as ten points to Slytherin, for impeccable potion skills."

Draco smiled charmingly at the man before him, bowing ever so slightly. "Thank you Professor Slughorn," he replied, his tone ever so slightly smug, before he turned to leave.

"Just a moment, Mr. Malfoy," Slughorn interrupted hurriedly. Draco suppressed a groan, turning back to face the older man. "I am holding a party next Saturday, and I was just wondering if you would like to come? It's an invitation only sort of event, but you may bring along a friend if you so desire," here Slughorn waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Draco. "A lady friend, dare I say it?"

Draco fought with his smile to stop it from turning into a sneer, causing the resulting facial expression to become a glacial smirk. "I'm sorry, Professor," he said, managing to mix a heavy contempt into his light and polite tone, "but I have promised a friend that I would help him with his Charms that evening. Perhaps another time."

Slughorn appeared to deflate in disappointment, but he nodded anyway and gave a good natured smile. "Of course, of course, wouldn't want to get in the way of learning," he boomed, clapping Draco in the back in an apparent show of bravado that had the blonde wobbling on his feet. "Ah, young Malfoy, so noble to be using his astounding wit to help those less fortunate!"

Draco grimaced at the proclamation, nodding goodbye to the teacher and hurrying off before he could be called any more horrible titles. 'Noble'. Pah. Sighing, he pulled out his wand and took a moment to smile at it before casting a quick _'Tempus'_ and groaning. He was half an hour late for Transfiguration. Just wonderful. The new professor, Edgar Turtletoes, would certainly have a detention waiting for him, as he seemed to particularly hate the blonde.

Pouting to himself, the Slytherin made his way up to the Transfiguration classroom, outside of which he paused a moment to reconstruct his expression into one of polite indifference. Then he took a deep breath and entered the classroom, his mouth already moving to make up some excuse, only to find it completely empty. Startled, he surveyed the classroom suspiciously, wondering what had happened to everyone. The silence unnerved him, and he found himself feeling decidedly jittery as he stepped into the empty classroom.

"May I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" Came a stern voice from behind him, and the boy in question physically jumped. Whirling around, he found Professor Turtletoes standing before him, his gaze disapproving and stern behind his angular glasses. Taking a few deep breaths to calm his hammering heart, the blonde looked up at him and nodded.

"Were we not supposed to have our Transfiguration lesson now, Professor?" he enquired, pleased to note that he did not stammer once. The scowling professor did not seem to like the little smile that tried and failed to not show up on his face.

"A Transfiguration lesson that, had it been held, you would have been half an hour late for. You are incessantly lucky, Mr. Malfoy, that all of your classes for the day have been cancelled," an ugly look crossed the mans face as he thought of something else, "due to an accident that I have no doubts that you orchestrated. You may get away with that behaviour with Slughorn, boy, but don't even think of pulling that kind of nonsense in my classroom."

With that dire warning, Professor Turtletoes turned and stalked off, leaving the blonde sneering at his retreating back. Between Slughorn, Turtletoes, and that insufferable oaf that presided over the Care of Magical Creatures class, the Slytherin felt that this school's teaching staff had really gone to the dogs. And that was saying something, considering that the boy had thought so little of the institution to begin with.

Sighing, he turned and began to make his weary way back to the Slytherin dorms. If he had no classes, he reasoned, he may as well get as much of his homework out of the way as possible while the common room was quiet.

He had almost made it to his destination, having just descended the steps that led him into the dungeons of the school, when a sudden pain hit the side of his head. He reeled, faltering in his steps and falling against the wall, as white stars erupted in his vision. Before he had managed to recover, rough hands grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him upright, slamming him roughly into the wall.

Yelping from shock and fear, the blonde lifted his head to view his attackers. Four burly seventh year Hufflepuffs stood before him, all leering darkly. One of them, what looked to be the biggest, held him tightly against the wall while the others moved in closer, cracking their knuckles threateningly.

"Look who we have here," one of them jeered, grabbing Draco's chin between his forefinger and thumb. The Slytherin shuddered with revulsion at the touch, which only seemed to amuse the men more, as they began laughing. "A wee little Death Eater out for a stroll. What say we show him just how unwelcome his kind is, eh boys?" A chorus of assent and laughter rose from the small group, and Draco felt his lip curl.

"What a bunch of uncultured boors," he sneered, his hand stealthily retracting into his sleeve. "To think, you would resort to physical violence in a wizards fight. Does it take four of you tough guys to beat down a little skinny Slytherin? Cowards," he spat the last word venomously, whipping his wand out from its safe hold in his sleeve and cursing the bully in front of him with a body bind.

The other three whipped out there wands, but in the time it took them Draco had managed to take another one down. Sneering, he cast a _Protego_ to ward of the attacks coming in as he began to back down the corridor, heading toward the Slytherin dorms. Perhaps if he was lucky, the sound of the duel would draw the attention of nearby teachers or fellow Slytherins who could help get him out of this mess. Not that Draco was a bad duellist, by any means, but two against one was rather unfair.

It turned out he didn't need help after all. In a stroke of ingenuity, the blonde transfigured a nearby vase into a mirror which he then used to reflect one of the buffoons' spells back at the other. Then, with the odds evened, he had quickly managed to take out the last of the thugs, and then rushed toward his dorm in case any more were to show up.

The moment he walked into the common room, Pansy's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "What's got you all puffed up with pride?" She questioned, shifting aside some textbooks and petting the couch beside her in invitation.

Draco practically beamed at her as he slid into the seat beside her. "I was attacked by four Hufflepuffs coming here!" He announced proudly. The dark haired girl's forehead crinkled as she frowned in confusion at his words.

"And this is a good thing…why?" She prompted.

"Because!" The blonde replied impatiently, "Don't you see? I'm unharmed! I fought them off Pans, four against one. Nobody messes with Draco," he added, announcing it to the room in a self-important manner. The few people seated around the area shot him bemused looks, and Pansy chuckled.

"Bravo," she said dryly, before a curious look overcame her features. "How did you run them off?" She asked, leaning forward as if looking for some sort of secret weapon. Draco suddenly recalled that he had not told the girl that he had reclaimed his wand from the Golden Boy. Smirking again, he withdrew it from his sleeve once more, holding it out for her to see.

She gasped immediately and reached out to touch it, her eyes bulging. "Is that…?" She whispered, her voice almost reverent as she gingerly handled the piece of wood. Draco chuckled at her reaction before nodding.

"Yes. I stole it from Potter the other morning," he replied, accepting it back from her and tucking it away. "I hide it in my sleeve while I wear Mother's old one on my belt, so people won't suspect I've got a secret weapon see?" He gestured his slender fingers toward his waist where, true to his word, another wand was sitting rather inconspicuously.

"Smart," Pansy approved, leaning back into the couch and pulling her parchment toward her yet again. "Nice job running them off, Drakey, now help me with my Charms," she added, making a face at her homework,. Draco just laughed at her and pulled out his own Charms homework.

"Where's Blaise?" He asked as he looked over her homework for her. Pansy pulled a sour face and kicked off her shoes, ignoring Draco's disapproving look as she placed her feet up on the low coffee table before them.

"He and Theo are off at the Quidditch pitch," she sniffed, sounding rather offended by the fact. "Getting all sweaty and muddy, no doubt, and then he'll come and want to drape himself all over me," she added, letting the blonde know exactly what it was she disagreed with. He grinned at her, earning himself a pinch for his trouble, before tugging her Charms homework closer to him and re-reading it, a slight frown creasing his brow.

"Pans, this is complete shit!" The Slytherin Prince lowered the piece of parchment and stared at her incredulously. "What on Earth were you doing? I know you know the material better than this!" He gestured toward her homework with a grimace, and Pansy heaved a long-suffering sigh.

"I may have bullied a third-year into doing it for me…" She admitted, ignoring the withering look she received. "I knew I'd have to check it over, but is it really that bad?" Draco nodded mutely and shoved it back at her, shaking his head.

"I'm not even going to grace this with my time," he declared loftily, turning to his own homework. "I'll be happy to look over your work when _you_ do it."

Another pinch followed that statement, but then the dark haired girl settled sulkily in to do her own work, balling up her parchment and tossing it into the fire. Draco rolled his eyes at her antics, wondering who in their right mind would ask a third-year to do their seventh-year homework anyway, but retained his silence as he continued to complete his homework.

Blaise and Theodore came back right before supper, leaving them just enough time to deposit their Quidditch gear into the boy's dorm and return to the common room. Draco and Pansy greeted them easily, both barely glancing up from the homework that they were currently doing together. Blaise flopped ungracefully down beside Pansy and dragged her in for a kiss, then nodded in greeting to Draco. Theo perched himself beside Draco, returning the pair's greetings and eyeing the Charms homework with an expert eye. Draco snorted to himself. Expert eye for copying would be more accurate.

Theo had just decided to pull out his own homework and get as much done as possible when dinner time rolled around. Pansy immediately flung her own homework to the floor as she complained how very hungry she was. Draco personally though that it was all an act that she put on because she liked watching Blaise scramble to gather her possessions back together, but he kept his opinions to himself.

He stretched languidly as Blaise flapped around gathering books, sharing an amused glance with Theodore, before stashing his own homework back into his bag and rising gracefully to his feet.

"Let's go then," he commanded in a lofty voice, still the undisputed prince of Slytherin. Theodore and Blaise nodded, the latter having just completed cleaning up his prospective girlfriends mess. Pansy, however, cried a negative.

"I need to retouch my makeup!" She cried, racing off to the girl's dorms with a chorus of irritated complaints rising up behind her. Draco groaned and dropped his head back, banging it harshly against the door. Pansy would insist on annoying people to the very end. Heck, she'd probably be on her deathbed and pretend to die about three times before she actually passed. The blonde chuckled fondly at the thought.

By the time they had made their way down to the Great Hall, it was already full and supper had already been served. Draco sighed inwardly, but strolled ahead of his pack anyway, head held high. Surreptitiously, he glanced around for Potter, only to bristle when he found the hero sitting next to that red-headed tart of a Weasley. His lips twisted down in displeasure as a frown swept across his face, but he quickly banished it. Harry was looking at him, and it would not do to allow the Saviour to see him get riled up like this. Instead, he lowered his head and shot Harry what he hoped was a seductive glance through his eyelashes before Pansy shoved him lightly on the back, causing him to stumble forward. He gracefully caught his balance, sent the brunette and irritated glare and headed to the Slytherin table.

Seating himself gently onto his chair, the blonde Slytherin turned his attention again to the Boy Who Lived, only to feel his gut clench at the sight that awaited his silvery eyes. In the time taken to get to the table, Harry had leant over and placed a loving kiss on the She-Weasel's cheek. The pink tinge that painted her cheeks made him feel nauseated, and he turned to his food with a sullen pout. It had seemed, in that corridor, that Potter had been about to accept him, and now…

As dinner wore on, the blonde increasingly lost more and more of his already meagre appetite. Potter and that infernal Weasel kept drawing closer to each other, and the blonde certainly didn't miss the seductive looks she kept shooting the hero. Put out, the Slytherin stared blankly down at the plate on his table, pushing the food around his plate. Beside him, Pansy asked him nervously if he was alright. He nodded dully, raising his grey eyes to hers.

"I'm fine Pans," he murmured, his eyes flitting momentarily to Potter again, before turning back to stare at his food. Just in time to watch it disappear and be replaced by dessert. Sulking, Draco pulled toward him a slice of apple pie, sinking his fork into the succulent dessert and moaning around the taste of it in his mouth.

"Draco, stop that," Pansy suddenly hissed, a few mouthfuls in. "It's indecent!" Draco looked up to ask her what she was talking about, and found himself faced with the wide eyes of every Slytherin nearby. Swallowing down his mouthful of dessert, the Slytherin Prince shot them all an irritated glare, feeling satisfied when they dropped their gazes instantly.

"What was that about?" He complained to Pansy, toying with his last forkful of dessert. She gave him an incredulous look and put down her fork.

"What do you mean, 'what was that about'?" She demanded, poking the blonde in the chest. "You were practically orgasming over your food. Of course people are staring!" The girl wrinkled her nose suddenly, and frowned at the boy, before asking in a teasing manner. "Why are you eating that nonsense anyway Drakey? How many calories does that contain?"

Draco glanced down guiltily at his dessert and pushed the plate away, privately mourning the last piece of pie that remained sad and lonely on the dish. Pansy made a small noise in her throat and pushed it back toward him.

"Just eat it," she sighed, "seeing as you didn't eat any supper…" She injected a glare here that Draco ignored, happily tucking in to the last bite of pie and savouring it in his mouth. Pansy sighed. "You're moaning again," she informed him, resting her chin inelegantly on her palm and asked sarcastically. "I can't help but wonder, do you eat this nonsense to cheer you up Drakey? I saw how you were looking at Potter over there."

Draco choked around his piece of pie, prompting the girl to thump him heartily on the back. "P-Pans!" He objected, wiping his mouth on a handy serviette. "Hush. I don't know what you're talking about!"

Pansy arched her eyebrows, but refrained from comment as she leaned back in her seat, her dark eyes travelling over to the Gryffindor table. "Oh look, there he goes," she quipped, watching as Potter basically leapt from his seat and dragged his girlfriend bodily from the room. Draco wondered what he was so eager to do with her, and then felt nauseous at the conclusion he came to.

"I'm going to finish my homework," he muttered sullenly, ditching his friends and swiftly making his way back to his dormitory. Pansy called after him, but he ignored her and sped as quickly as he could without running back to his room. Once there, he spent a good ten minutes throwing a silent tantrum very unbefitting for a Malfoy - he had ensured the room was empty first, of course. Then he pulled out his homework and furiously set to work, all the while plotting his next confrontation with Potter in his mind.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Harry lay on his bed, staring dispassionately at the ceiling. Beside him, Ginny's slumbering form exuded a warmth that, instead of comforting, the boy hero found cloying. The press of her naked form against his reminded him all to clearly of the events that had transpired that evening. In the end, he had been unable to finish. The feeling of her juices flowing around him, her moaning gasp of his name, the feel of her breasts under his hands, it had all been to much. He had been unable to keep up his fantasy of fucking Draco, and in that moment he had been brought back to reality with a jarring start. And the moment the realization of exactly what he was doing hit home, he had felt himself wilt like a daisy in December.

Ginny had not noticed, partly due to her own orgasmic bliss and partly due to the condom he still wore, so he had hurriedly pulled off and disposed of the thing. His girlfriend had begun to come to her senses, looking around in a somewhat panicked manner for him, and he had hurried back to the bed to comfort her that he had not intention of leaving. She had fallen asleep in his arms, and that led to where he was now.

Sometime during the night, the door had been magically unlocked and Seamus had entered, dragging an unconscious Ron. He had spared Harry a shit-eating grin before depositing the redhead on his bed and going to sleep for the night himself. Harry had not slept. He had lain awake all night, trying to stave off the alternate feelings of regret, guilt, and nausea that rose within him.

The dawn came too soon for the troubled boy, bringing with it the waking of his girlfriend. He forced a smile to his face as her chocolate brown eyes fluttered open, meeting his sleepily. A slow, content grin crossed her features, and her hand reached up to stroke his face gently, before her face fell, pulling into a frown.

"Why'd you sleep with your glasses on?" She murmured, her fingers stroking the round frames of said glasses. Harry gulped nervously, before shrugging and forcing his smile a little larger.

"So that I could see you first thing when I woke up…?" He replied, more as a question than an answer, hoping it was the right excuse to make. It seemed it was, because the redhead beamed at him and drew him in for a passionate kiss. Harry pulled away before he could stop himself, guilt swelling up again when he saw her face falling. "R-Ron could see us," he pointed out nervously, and his gut swelled with relief as the redhead's eyes widened and she glanced at her brother's bed as if realizing he was in it for the first time.

"Shite," she cursed, sliding from the bed and quickly pulling on her clothes from the night previous. "I didn't realize how long… I should go," she babbled, picking up her shoes and socks from the floor and all but fleeing the room. She paused in the doorway only long enough to smile at Harry and blow him a kiss, and then she was out the door in a whirlwind of red, a promise to talk to him later echoing behind her.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief at her absence, suddenly feeling much more comfortable in his soft bed than he had all night. He didn't dare attempt sleep, however, knowing that it would elude him anyway. Besides, breakfast would be upon them soon.

Ron wasn't nearly as bad as they had thought he would be. Apparently, he had convinced himself that he had dreamt the whole thing up and, while he did glare at them suspiciously and interrupt them when he thought they may be getting too romantic, he didn't confront them about the night prior. To Harry, this was a double blessing. He didn't want to fight with Ron, and secretly, he was also very glad that the redhead was keeping himself between his sister and Harry. The messy haired boy didn't know how to act around his girlfriend any longer, always struck by the urge to run as far away as possible.

Breakfast was excruciating. Hermione refused to let Ron sit between Harry and Ginny, and so the girl had immediately pressed herself against Harry's side yet again, loading his plate with fruit and yoghurt that made the hero want to hurl. He politely tried to eat some of it, but eventually gave up and pulled a plate of bacon toward himself. Ignoring Ginny's disapproving look, he tucked into it with relish, soon adding sausages, eggs, and toast to his plate.

The girl pouted at how he didn't pay attention to her. She began sucking seductively on a piece of strawberry, trying to draw Harry's attention toward herself. It didn't work, however, because at that moment Harry noticed Draco Malfoy across the hall. The blonde was also eating mostly fruit, but the Golden Boy found he was far more enamoured with the way the Ice Prince caressed the food with his mouth than he was in the way his girlfriend sucked on it.

Ginny, thankfully, didn't notice exactly who was stealing her boyfriend's attention. Before Harry could draw any attention to the object of his affections, she hit him hard on the shoulder. The Golden Boy started, turning wide green eyes to the redhead beside him. She offered him a sugary sweet smile and leant in for a kiss, trying to slip a piece of fruit from her mouth to his. Harry, caught of guard, gagged unintentionally and ended up coughing it out, much to the disgust of the rest of the table.

"Harry!" Hermione chastised, as the attention of the rest of the Great Hall was drawn to the Gryffindor table. Snickers erupted across the room, and the Golden Boy's face flushed deep crimson, his inappropriate attraction to Malfoy conveniently forgotten in the wake of his embarrassment. Flushing furiously, the hero shot up from his seat and fled through the door with the speed of a bullet, leaving his girlfriend gaping behind him. Amidst the amused chatter that erupted throughout the hall, nobody noticed the slender blonde figure that gracefully left the Slytherin table and followed the messy-haired boy out the door.

Harry hurried down the hallway, cursing himself for his stupidity. How could he have spat the food out? He had better table manners than that. But when Ginny's mouth had pressed to his, her wet tongue pushing into his mouth trying to get the fruit to him, a wave of nausea had rose up through his blood. Luckily, it could be easily explained, as he could simply say the fruit went down the wrong way, but it didn't change the fact that he had been made a laughingstock in front of the entire school. And, after having managed to avoid that kind of situation for so long, the boy hero found that he was not eager to relive it.

Suddenly, a cry of "Potter" rung through the air, slicing through the silence not unlike a knife through butter. Said boy's ruffled head spun around to seek out the source of the sound, his verdant eyes widening as they fell upon a head of almost ethereally light hair.

Draco hurried up to him, his mercury eyes narrowed as he regarded the Golden Boy. Wasting no time, the slender boy snagged the arm of the hero and dragged him off, ignoring the weak protests that emitted from his prisoner.

They travelled several hallways before the Slytherin steered his former nemesis into an abandoned classroom, kicking the door shut behind himself. Brusquely, he shoved Harry against a desk before resting his pale hands upon his slim hips. Harry watched warily as he opened his mouth to speak, but all the blonde said was "Explain!"

"Explain?" repeated the hero, at a loss for what on earth the blonde wanted an explanation about. Seeming to see this, Draco let out an annoyed huff, stepping closer to the Gryffindor and seizing him by the collar. What he said next was lost to Harry, though, as the scarred boy could only focus on their proximity, and those oh-so-soft lips that were currently trying to tell him…something.

"W-What?" He questioned dumbly, shaking his head and forcing back his thoughts. He was with Ginny now, dammit. Draco blinked at him for a second before scowling, shaking Harry in annoyance.

"Are you even listening to me Potter?" He demanded. Harry, snapped back to attention by the none-too-gentle shaking, nodded vigorously. The blonde's scowl deepened, but he let go of the Gryffindor's robes and moved back a step. Harry breathed inwardly in relief, his brain functions returning somewhat now that he couldn't feel Draco's breath against his skin, and turned his focus wholly to the irate Slytherin, whose hands had returned to his hips.

"Do you recall what we discussed when we last met?" He asked, his voice now carefully neutral and devoid of emotion. Harry frowned at this change, before considering the question.

"Of course," he murmured truthfully, shifting his feet. There was no way he was going to forget _that_ particular conversation. Once again, he wondered whether he was really doing the right thing choosing Ginny. But then he remembered the reaction of his peers in the Great Hall. If they behaved that way over a piece of fruit, imagine how they would treat him upon finding out he was dating a Slytherin? And a very male Death Eater of a Slytherin at that. No, that wouldn't do at all. And he had not forgotten his conversation with Hermione. Steeling himself, he decided that he needed to break it off with the Malfoy heir once and for all.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," he said, ignoring his heart that was screaming at him not to do this. "But you and I…we're just not right for each other. There's no way we can be together and you know it." He raised his head to meet Malfoy's eyes, and immediately wished he hadn't. The emotions swirling there almost had him yelling an apology and whisking the blonde away to some far-off tower where nobody could get in the way of their relationship.

"Why not Potter? …Harry?" Came the reply, and Harry swallowed at the sound of his given name slipping through those perfect lips. "I know it would be difficult, but…you defeated V-V…The Dark Lord, for Merlin's sake. Surely you can manage this?" The blonde stepped closer, a smouldering look taking root deep in his argent eyes. "Do you really want to give this up, Harry?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. A pale hand slid seductively up Harry's body to rest lightly on his chest as Malfoy closed the distance between them. Harry's heartbeat quickened inexplicably as the Slytherin leant in close, his breath wafting across Harry's ear. "Isn't this worth it?" The seductive voice whispered in his ear, before his earlobe was caught between perfect teeth, reducing the Golden Boy's knees to mush.

Drawing a shuddering breath in, Harry lifted his hands to touch the blonde, half-heartedly cupping his arse while trying to remember why this was such a bad idea. Unbidden, moans rose from his throat at the treatment of his ear, and he felt the erection that had stirred between his legs when the blonde had first closed in on him grow ever larger. Giving in, he let loose a grunt of appreciation as he ground his hips forward, pleased at the friction it garnered. Draco echoed his moan at the touch and rolled his own hips, driving their erections together once more, and Harry was in bliss.

Just as his hands wandered to the front of the Slytherin's pants, an image of Ginny's teary and devastated face crept into Harry's mind. As the Golden Boy froze, it was replaced by Hermione's disappointed face, then Ron's, disgusted, Molly's, heartbroken. Arthur's, betrayed. His breath caught again, this time not from pleasure, and he automatically shoved the blonde away from himself. A disgruntled cry emitted from the Slytherin as he righted himself, eyeing the Saviour incredulously. Harry tried his best not to notice the vulnerable terror that hid behind the annoyance in those steely eyes.

"What was that for?" Came the unavoidable question. Harry shook his head, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers and licking his suddenly dry lips.

"No," he said hoarsely, "no we can't. This isn't right. I don't love you. I…I'm in love with Ginny!" Draco started to say something, but Harry held up a hand and he fell silent. "No. Whatever you're going to say, it's not going to work Malfoy," he interrupted tiredly. "Yes, I do like you, but I don't love you. I love Ginny, and she and I are right for each other. You're just another Death Eater who thinks you can walk all over people to get what he wants." And with those words, he turned and walked away, pausing only to add one last parting sentence of "And Malfoy, don't try this again."

X0X0X0X0X0X

Draco woke up in a bad mood that morning. No, scratch that…he woke in a horrid mood. Ripping back his curtains, he proceeded to curse every alarm clock in the vicinity, sending them throwing themselves into the fire that was already burning in the main common room. Ignoring the many enraged yells that followed him into the bathrooms, the blonde then locked everyone else out and took his own sweet time making himself look perfect. He sneered at the mirror when it tried to compliment his appearance, and hit it with a curse too, one that turned it black and unusable. Then, with its shocked and indignant complaints sounding out behind him, he turned and wrenched open the door.

The other seventh year boys were gathered on the other side, their death glares well armed and aimed in his direction. The irate blonde paid no attention to their anger, shoving rudely past the lot of them and making his way over to his bed where he snatched up his bag and stalked out. Faintly, he could hear the sound of Blaise calling out after him, but he paid the other Slytherin no mind and continued his storming down the hall.

Pansy was already waiting for them in the common room. Upon seeing her friend, her face lit up and she opened to mouth to greet him. Her efforts were met with a sneer before the words could even leave her mouth, and, recognizing the mood that the blonde was in, the girl wisely fell silent. Instead, she followed the blonde as he swept from the Slytherin common room and into the cold and oppressive air that circulated the dungeons.

They made it to the Great Hall rather early. Most of the students had not yet left their dorms, leaving the giant room seeming empty and somewhat lonely in the absence of their usual chatter. Pansy obediently followed her classmate as he led the way to their usual seats at the Slytherin table, casting dark glances at the few students dotting the Hall.

Both Slytherins slipped gracefully into their seats, and Pansy began dishing out her breakfast, counting silently under her breath. Upon reaching ten, as predicted, a sigh exploded from beside her. She turned her head to find her companion sitting, his elbows on the table and his head bowed elegantly to rest into his hands. Gently, the dark haired girl prodded at the offending elbows with the end of her spoon, watching as they instantly retracted from the table. Silver eyes lifted from pale palms to meet her own dark orbs, the tired look in them alarming her.

"He's making me crazy Pans," the blonde whispered, causing the girl in question to catch his hand and give it a sympathetic squeeze. "He backs off when things are going well, and then comes back and seems to want it when I'm about ready to give up…" he shook his head, sighing, and cast his silvery eyes to the door of the Great Hall as it swung open, admitting a plethora of decidedly grouchy seventh year Slytherin boys.

"What the bloody hell is up with you?" Blaise groused, sliding into the seat beside Pansy. She raised an eyebrow at him, while Draco pulled his lips back into his customary sneer before dropping it and pulling some food to his plate.

"Stop getting your knickers in a twist, I was just tired," he huffed, nibbling desolately on a slice of apple. His silvery eyes flickered constantly between the door and his food, studiously ignoring the weight of Pansy's dark gaze on him. Blaise rolled his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of 'twat' before dishing out his own breakfast. Silence descended on their portion of the table as most of the students present tucked in to their food, leaving their prince to stew silently in his own thoughts.

Said thoughts were interrupted when the doors to the Great Hall opened yet again, this time admitting the boy who had spent the last day invading Draco's thoughts. He was flanked by his usual cronies, with an added weasel girl who, Draco was pleased to see, walked on the other side of her brother and away from Harry. The blonde's relief at this development, however, was short lived as the group reached their house table and took their seats, the girl weasel slipping in beside the Golden Boy with the smile of a cat who'd gotten the cream. Draco sneered absently as he watched her pile Harry's plate with fruit and yoghurt, not noticing his reluctance toward the food. The blonde was not surprised in the least when the dark haired boy pushed the food away, choosing a plate of bacon instead.

It was when the redhead started attempting to suck seductively on a strawberry that Draco had to look away. The sight was almost excruciating in how disgusting it was, and he found himself in danger of losing his own appetite watching it. Instead, he picked up another cut piece of apple and began to delicately eat it, worries about the weasel stealing his Harry appeased. No one in their right mind could be attracted to _that_ after all.

Suddenly, a choking sound erupted across the hall, paired with cries of revolt. Draco's silvery-blonde head joined most of those in the Hall as they flew up from their food to face the source of the distraction. His argent eyes alighted on the Boy-Who-Lived, who was flushing red whilst choking violently. The stares of his tablemates were directed at a lone piece of fruit, what looked to be a melon, and the Slytherin quickly deduced what had happened. He turned his now sympathetic gaze back toward his crush, only to find the taller boy hightailing it out of the Hall, amidst peals of laughter that echoed from their peers.

Without another thought, the blonde slipped from his seat and followed the boy hero out of the room. Merlin knew he was not about to let a chance like this to get Harry alone slip away. Catching sight of the retreating boy down a long hallway, he sped up his steps and raised his voice to call out the others name.

Harry turned instantly, his steps faltering and eyes widening when he saw Draco. The blonde wasted no time catching up to the Gryffindor, snagging his arm and dragging him along with him. Harry complained a little, but the Slytherin ignored his half-hearted dissuasions and instead led him along several hallways to a classroom he knew to be out of the way and rarely trafficked. He kicked the door shut behind himself and shoved Harry at a desk, his anger at the way the boy had been playing with him finally taking front stage. Unbidden, his hands flew to his hips where they rested in a universally cross position.

"Explain," he demanded, watching as confusion filled these beautiful green eyes. Annoyance filled the blonde. Did Potter really not know what he was doing to the blonde? His question was answered in the next second when the Golden Boy replied with an absurd echo of his command, a questioning lilt to the end of the word. Draco let out an annoyed huff and took a step closer to the Gryffindor, determined to keep his attention as he attempted to catch his eye.

"Harry, we need to talk about this," he breathed, "we need to talk about you and me, and that she-Weasel. I need an answer, you cannot keep playing me around like this, Harry, it's maddening! Why do you push me away and then pull me closer, only to push me away again? I need to know how you feel about this, because I really-"

"What?" Harry interrupted, shaking his head and blinking in what appeared to be confusion. Draco stopped, surprised, before scowling at Harry.

"Are you even listening to me Potter?" He cried in frustration, grabbing the Gryffindor's robes and shaking him none-too-gently to gain his attention. Harry nodded frantically toward him, causing Draco's frown to deepen. He dropped the Gryffindor's robes, all to aware of how close to the Golden Boy's body his hands were, and he stepped away to give himself some space. His hands twitched to cross defensively over his body as Harry's verdant eyes followed him, and he quickly redirected them back to his hips instead. It was unbefitting for a Malfoy to be seen in so vulnerable a position after all.

Inhaling deeply, the blonde blanked his face and forced a calm and neutral tone to his voice. "Do you recall what we discussed when we last met?" He asked evenly. Harry frowned, and his insides shrunk with terror at the possibility that Harry had forgotten all about their meeting in the hallway. The fear was almost immediately dispelled, however, with Harry's next words of assent. The blonde Slytherin felt relief wash over him and he closed his eyes and let out a pent up breath that he hadn't noticed holding, a smile curling his pale lips.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," Harry's voice cut into Malfoy's thoughts and he snapped his eyes open, fixing Harry with a panicked silver stare. The green eyed hero didn't notice as his own verdant gaze was dropped to his shoes, and he continued his speech, causing the blonde's heart to constrict painfully. When Harry finally did look up, it was all the Ice Prince could do not to throw himself at the hero and scream and cry at him. Instead, he swallowed his feelings and continued carefully, determined to keep his composure.

"Why not Potter?" Inwardly, the blonde cursed for his involuntary use of the Gryffindor's surname, and he quickly rectified with a, "Harry?". The brunet didn't answer, so Draco pressed on. "I know it would be difficult, but…you defeated V-V…" Draco paused again, feeling an urge to cry. How was he to convince Harry to like him if he was too much of a coward to say Voldemort's name? Kicking himself inwardly, he continued. "The Dark Lord, for Merlin's sake. Surely you can manage this?" This wasn't working. Draco felt an intense hatred toward his cowardice, but there was no way he could bring himself to get past it. If he couldn't show Harry that he had changed, then he'd have to draw him in sexually instead.

The blonde took a step closer to Harry, sending him his best attempt at a sexy look. "Do you really want to give this up?" He asked in a low voice, sliding his hand up Harry's body and relishing the firm muscles he felt beneath the Gryffindor's clothes. He leaned in closely, praying desperately that he wasn't making a fool of himself, and whispered into that delectable ear, "Isn't this worth it?". He then caught the ear in his teeth, unable to resist.

Apparently he wasn't making a fool of himself, as Harry's hands came up to hover about his rear. Draco's breath hitched in his throat, but he continued his assault on the Gryffindors ear, drawing a moan from the hero. Harry inhaled shakily, and the blonde felt those strong hands hesitantly touching his behind, before fully cupping the area. A delectable moan slipped from the brunets lips, and then suddenly there was delicious friction as their groins slid together. Draco moaned in return, driving his own hips forward to keep the friction going. More moans followed, unbidden, from both as Harry's hands found their way to Draco's general groin area.

The next thing the Slytherin knew, he was stumbling back, his spine making painful contact with a nearby desk. Crying out, the blonde righted himself and glared at Harry, nonplussed. "What was that for?" He demanded, shoving back the urge to cry in frustration. Harry was doing this again, pulling him close and pushing him away, and the Slytherin didn't know if he could handle it much longer.

Harry fidgeted nervously for a moment before he suddenly blurted out "No!" Draco blinked, confused, and the Golden Boy continued, " No, we can't. This isn't right. I don't love you. I…I'm in love with Ginny!"

The blonde's heart constricted, and suddenly he very much wanted Harry to play the back and forth again. Anything but turn him away completely. He opened his mouth to argue, to tell Harry that he did love Draco, he had told him so, but Harry held up a hand in a plea for silence and the blond found himself complying.

"No," the Saviour repeated, sounding tired. "Whatever you say, it's not going to work Malfoy. Yes, I do like you, but I don't love you. I love Ginny, and she and I are right for each other. You're just another Death Eater who thinks you can walk all over people to get what he wants."

Draco recoiled at the harsh words, hurt. Harry either didn't notice or didn't care as he turned to walk away, apparently finished with his tirade. As he reached the door, however, he paused and turned his head to stare coldly at the blonde. "And Malfoy, don't try this again," he warned, and then he was gone.

The blonde sunk to his knees, his silvery grey eyes trained unseeingly on the doorway. In the few instances he had dared think of his reaction to this scenario, Draco had picture tears, rage, or flying objects or screaming. But all he felt was numb for a long while, kneeling on that hard stone floor. It was only when he heard his name echoing down the hall outside the lonely classroom that he moved, his grey eyes flickering in the direction of the sound. It grew louder, accompanied by footsteps now as the caller closed in on his position, but the blonde made no move to get up.

It was not until Pansy appeared in the doorframe that he acknowledged her at all, lifting his dulled eyes to hers and whispering, "What do you want?" The girl took in his undignified position on the floor and deadened gaze and immediately flew to his side.

"Drakey what happened? You disappeared and missed the first two classes! I was so worried about you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. The Slytherin Ice Prince closed his eyes, accepting the comfort she offered without word as the grief he was supposed to be feeling finally caught up and slammed into his heart like a freight train.

"He…he said no," Draco mumbled, and Pansy drew back to gaze at him sadly, not even a tiny hint of 'I-told-you-so' showing on her face.

"You're better of without him anyway Drakey," she replied, an attempt at consolation. "You're too good for the likes of Potter and you know it. No, look at me Draco!" She grabbed his chin and forced his wandering gaze back to her own face as it tried to sneak to the floor. "You're a wonderful, witty, intelligent, bright, funny, and charming person, and anyone would kill to be so lucky as to have you. Potter doesn't deserve your affections, and the fact that he's throwing them away only proves that even more so. You. Deserve. Better."

Draco snorted at her speech, pulling his chin away and staring at the wall to his left as he retorted, his tone dry and bitter, "Better. Who are you kidding Pans? He's the best I could ever get! Even if I didn't care so much for the stupid git, he's still the best catch in the sea. Are you telling me that there is someone out there who could do more for me than Potter? Who could drag my name out of the mud, who could turn around the prejudice, who could protect me better than the entire world's Golden Boy?" His gaze turned to his shoes, voice dropping to a self-deprecating whisper as he uttered the next sentence, "It's me who doesn't deserve him."

Pansy, of course, immediately flared back up to argue the point, but the blonde paid her no notice, his own mind occupied as the truth of what he had just said crashed into him. Of course he didn't deserve Harry. Everything the Golden Boy had said was true, the boy had loved the Weasley forever, while himself and Harry had been rivals, hating each other at every turn. He had spent his school life making Harry's hell, and as the other had pointed out, even joined the Death Eaters, loyal servants to the man who was out to kill the Gryffindor and enslave the world. No, of course Harry deserved better than him, and he, being his stupid, selfish, Slytherin self, had chosen to ignore that fact and pursue the boy anyway.

"If you love something, let it go," he whispered, a Muggle proverb he had read once in a Ministry publication he had filched from his father's desk, one that had undoubtedly been written by a mudblood.

"Sorry?" Asked Pansy, turning a confused gaze to him, but Draco just shook his head, giving her a sad smile and rising to his feet. Her dark eyes followed him worriedly as she too took to her feet, but the smile took on a reassuring air and Draco shook his head.

"I'm done Pans. Done with him. You were right, and I'm not doing this anymore. It's not fair." Pansy smiled, clearly not knowing that Draco wasn't doing this for himself, but for Harry. Because the way he could best help Harry, he realized, was to stay away from him. Clearly, the Golden Boy didn't want him and for good reason. It was a ridiculously Gryffindorish thing to do, and one his father would probably have struck him for, but Draco knew he wasn't good enough for the hero and he wasn't about to force his inept self upon him.

Knowing that he was so inferior as to not deserve the one he loved hurt, however, and the realization that he would have to give his Harry up made him wish desperately that he could curl up in a dark corner somewhere and weep. He longed dearly to ditch Pansy so that he could mope alone in his dorm, but he knew that the girl would be suspicious and so he held it of until that night, when, for the first time in over a year, Draco Malfoy cried.

**Honestly, I could end the fic right here and just call it an angst fic xD But I won't do that. Soooo…end of long (read 27 pages on Word in 10pt font) pointless chapter. I should be shot for this one, really. But I hope you liked it anyway…**

**Next Chapter, Both boys must come to terms with their decisions, Draco starts to see signs of pregnancy annnnnnnd….I'm guessing there will be more angst~ XD **

**Stay tuned~**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 3**

**Word Count: approx 18 700**

**Warnings for this chapter: Angst angst angst, Ginny, Theodore, paranoid Draco, asshole Harry**

**Summary: **After a drunken one-night-stand, Draco is left heartbroken and pregnant. When that also goes wrong, he convinces himself that he's not right for Harry and attempts to move on again. Several years later, however, a terrible incident lands him in St. Mungo's, where Harry finds him. With the blonde pregnant and slipping into depression, can Harry save the man he rejected so many years ago? And will he want to? Drarry. Not Epilogue compliant

**Story Warnings**: explicit sex , slash, gang rape, m!preg, et cetera et cetera.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters or creatures. I do not own the setting, locations, and world used in this story. I own only the plot. This is a work of fiction. It is not based on actual events. I do not condone rape of any sort. There is no monetary compensation being achieved from this work.

**Right, so this took forever. Sorry about this. I had terrible terrible author's block. I actually rewrote this several times over… The writing style is probably really awkward in this one too. And once again, emotions and reactions might be way off, I just suck at life so…This chapter was not actually supposed to end here, not even close, but I figured I had made you all wait enough and it was about as long as the last chapter soo . This story has officially been bumped to 31 Chapters.**

**I do apologise for the crappiness of the Chapter too. I don't actually know if it's any good because…yeah, writer's block ^^; Anyway, traumatizing story! I left my computer for like, half a second to go do something and my little brother found this story and read some *dies* No smut, thankfully but omfg.**

**-Chapter Spoilers-**

**Theo was not actually supposed to get this far with Draco, but it just happened and…it actually makes the story stronger so I'm going to roll with it a bit. For all you diehard Drarry fans… LOL Harry was with Ginny now anyway so I don't think it you'll take this seriously? It won't last long don't worry.**

**I don't even know what's going on with Harry XD He's having some kind of martyristc breakdown or something idek. And he has anger management issues .**

**And uhh…Draco and the Madam Pomfrey thing… that wasn't supposed to happen either… but it will make things ..interesting.. When he starts to show more.**

**-End of Spoilers -**

**Again, sorry for any mistakes, this is unbeta'd …just point them out to me and I'll fix yes? **

**Also to the lovely reviewers…Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to leave me a review. Love to you all. And a shout out to those who reviewed after Chapter 4 was posted. Thank you **_**MakeupDiva88, nikitabell, AnimatedCharacter, Sacred Phoenix of Nephthys, Sun, Rocklife Dude, ladious18, , MDarKspIrIT, Assassin Bulldog, RadiantWaterfalls, LovingPizza, ridikulus aurum leare, Daddys little crazy bitch, borderlinecrazy.**_** I can't reply when people aren't logged in so I shall reply to those here ^^;**

**Sun : **Oh the story ha s a long long long way to go XD And Draco gets a lot of shit. Gets really down for a time too. But then, that's in the summary :P I'm uhh…not going to say anything more because I probably shouldn't or I'll mistakenly give things away haha.

**Thank you for reading, Hope you enjoy ~**

**- Flammy**

AoAoAoAoAo

'_Knowing that he was so inferior as to not deserve the one he loved hurt, however, and the realization that he would have to give his Harry up made him wish desperately that he could curl up in a dark corner somewhere and weep. He longed dearly to ditch Pansy so that he could mope alone in his dorm, but he knew that the girl would be suspicious and so he held it of until that night, when, for the first time in over a year, Draco Malfoy cried.'_

The weather seemed to fit Draco's mood when he awoke the following morning. Watery, bleak sunlight tried vainly to filter through the clouds, managing it only sparingly amidst the spitting rain that fell almost constantly. The mood of the Great Hall felt somewhat subdued under the sky's sombre gloom, and, upon entering, the Malfoy heir wanted nothing more than to return to his bed. Following his tears the night prior, the blonde now felt empty, as though the sobs that had heaved through his body had finalized his decision.

As he took his seat at the emerald clad table, the blondes silvery eyes wandered hesitantly upward, toward the scarlet table across the hall, searching for the boy that had spent all night on his mind. Upon not finding Harry at the table, a strange mixture of relief and disappointment washed over the Slytherin. Sternly, he told himself to stop it. The Gryffindor was no longer his, and pining after the boy would bring him nothing but grief. However, he could not help but allow his eyes to flit hopefully back toward the empty seat that was usually occupied by the messy haired hero.

At that moment, the doors to the Great Hall creaked open. A few heads swivelled around, curious, and Draco found his own head joining in the movement. The entryway yawned empty for a moment, before admitting four Gryffindors into the cavernous hall. Draco felt his heartbeat jump about forty beats per second and he gulped quickly and averted his gaze as Harry slouched into the hall, trailing behind his usual pack. He could feel Pansy's dark eyes on him as he did everything in his power to keep himself from looking at Harry, from revoking his decision and begging the other boy to take him back. He needed to be stronger than that now.

That was harder said than done, as the blonde soon realized. Every time his argent gaze fell to the Golden Boy, Draco felt his pulse begin pounding, his palms shake and become sweaty, and it took all he had to control himself. By the time their early morning class, Care of Magical Creatures, rolled around, his concentration was already nearly shot. Hagrid's address to the class was wasted on him as he spent the entire class staring at his feet, uncomfortably aware of the bloody _scent_ of Potter that was carried to him on the slight breeze.

"All righ', best get started then," rang Hagrid's voice, and Draco was started out of his musings by Theodore's hand on his arm.

"What?" He questioned distractedly, wide silver eyes turning to his fellow Slytherin in bewilderment. Theo let out a small groan and rolled his eyes.

"Weren't you paying any attention?" He whined, dragging the blonde over to a large bucket that had Draco feeling suddenly uneasy. Theo, who didn't notice, continued complaining as he bent over the bucket to retrieve whatever was inside. As he did, his arse rose to the forefront of Draco's vision, and his mind suddenly replaced it with another, one more tan, more muscular. The perfect image was quickly followed up by a delectable torso, broad, strong shoulders, smouldering green eyes, just-been-shagged hair, and-

"DRACO!"

Oh Merlin, he had it bad.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Harry groaned, cracking his eyes open against the dull morning light that drifted lazily into the room. He lay quietly in his bed, a feeling of gloom stealing over him as he thought about having to get up and face the coming day. His mind traitorously replayed the events of the day before, focussing deeply on the feelings that Draco had let slip through his mask. A well of guilt bubbled up in his stomach, getting only stronger as he tried to push it down and remind himself that he owed this to Ginny.

"You up mate?" Came a weary question, floating over to his bed from somewhere to the left of him. Groaning, he glanced over to see Ron approaching, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Yeah," he replied, pulling himself heavily into a sitting position. "Morning," he added as he swung his legs from the bed, forcing his depressing thoughts from his mind. Ron echoed the greeting as he followed him to the bathrooms to wash up. Around them, the other seventh year boys stirred sleepily, but only Neville woke enough to mumble a greeting drowsily to them.

They were somewhat late to the Great Hall, their sleepiness slowing their movements as they made their sluggish way through the enormous castle. Harry was by far the slowest, delaying even his lethargic companions as he stumbled his way through his morning routine and trailed behind them down to the Great Hall. Even Ginny appeared to be having trouble walking slowly enough to match his pace, and by the time they reached the colossal doors, she too had given up on trying to remain beside him. He slouched into the room a pace or two behind them, his eyes straying to the Slytherin table despite his most valiant attempts to stop them.

The blonde who was the object of his attention was staring at the table, visibly jittery in a manner uncharacteristic of his usual stoic behaviour. Immediately, a yearning leapt through his body to go over to the slender Slytherin and offer him comfort for whatever troubles were obviously plaguing him. The only problem was that he knew what was bothering the boy- it was him. There was no way he could go over there now. Instead, he dejectedly trailed behind his classmates toward the breakfast awaiting them on the crimson-clad table.

As he morosely pushed his food about his plate, contributing in the resident conversation with half-hearted enthusiasm, Harry could feel Draco's eyes alighting upon him. Frowning down at his innocent fodder, the brunet denied his urge to return the argent gaze. Beside him, Ginny vied for his attention, catching it intermittently between his bouts of forcibly ignoring the Malfoy heir. Finally, she gave up all attempt at subtlety and smacked him harshly on the arm.

"Ouch Gin!" He cried, turning to face his beaming girlfriend. "What was that for?" he added sullenly, rubbing his stinging arm.

"I was asking you what class you had first," the girl repeated, her hand moving to grip her boyfriends. Harry offered her a pathetic smile as he replied, before realizing that his entire group of friends had finished their breakfast and appeared to be waiting on him. Hastily, he stuffed a spoonful of porridge into his mouth, belatedly realizing that Draco was watching him and going red. Ginny tittered for a moment, seemingly recalling the fruit incident, and recoiled from him, her freckled nose wrinkling in what could only be read as disgust.

The Gryffindor's ears turned red as he imagined the sneer that a certain blonde must be directing his way, and he quickly hid his face in a serviette. Embarrassed, Harry quickly admitted defeat to his breakfast and abandoned his half-empty bowl in favour of trailing after Ron and Hermione down the sloping grounds toward Hagrid's hut.

"Why did they have to add Care of Magical Creatures to the list for Auror requirements?" Ron moaned, tugging at his too-short sleeves. Harry shrugged and Hermione frowned at the redhead, clearly wanting to delve into an explanation of why exactly knowledge of how to deal with dangerous creatures might be beneficial to Auror work. Before she could, however, they heard Hagrid's booming voice cutting across the lawns.

"Mornin' yeh three!" He called, waving a bucked-sized hand at them. He was standing beside a glass tank in which writhed what appeared to be a steel-plated worm. Harry eyed the creature with trepidation, slowing his footsteps to try and delay his approach. Beside him, Ron and Hermione slowed similarly as they gazed upon the creature with dubious expressions on their faces. Hagrid, ever oblivious as he was, continued to wave them over.

"Er, Hagrid… what is that?" Ron asked hesitantly, pointing a finger toward the creature which swivelled around as if sensing him and gave a menacing hiss. Hagrid chuckled fondly and pet the cage, a move which, coming from him, seemed to nearly shatter the glass. The critter inside grew ever more agitated as Hagrid cheerfully declared "Ah, this little beauty. You'll be learnin' about 'er durin' class. Gather roun' then. You lot'll have the front row seats."

Ron blanched, and Harry groaned internally. None of them really wanted to be near to the creature, but they couldn't exactly refuse Hagrid without hurting his feelings. Reluctantly, the three of them drew closer to the cages. Behind them, the remainder of the class began arriving, all seeming perfectly content to stay behind the Golden Trio.

"Gather roun', gather roun', no need ter be shy!" Hagrid cried once they were all there, sweeping his massive arms through the air as though he were trying to reel them in with magic. Reluctantly, the class began shuffling forward, jostling each other as they each tried not to end up closest to the tank. The enthusiastic teacher clearly did not notice their reluctance as he beamed around at them.

"So, who can tell me wha' this is?" He boomed eagerly, searching the blank faces of his students. Only one showed signs of recognition, attached to a head of bushy hair above which waved a hand that was familiar to the seventh year class. "Ah, 'course Hermione knows," Hagrid chuckled, nodding at her to continue.

"That's a Freet sir. It's often mistaken for a relative of the Flobberworm due to it's wormlike characteristics, but it's a different species unto itself. They release a shock of magic when threatened that can be fatal if the Freet is very strong. Although, judging by the size of these, they haven't been allowed to gather that much power."

Hagrid beamed at Hermione's explanation before turning to the rest of the class. "Very good Hermione! Ten points ter Gryffindor. Now Freet milk has very useful properties in lots o' advanced potions an' remedies. Today yer goin' to be learnin' how to milk them safely." The class shuddered collectively as their half-giant teacher rubbed his large hands together with apparent glee at the prospect. Hagrid didn't appear to notice their discomfort as he dropped some food into the tank and then ploughed ahead with his speech. "The thing ter remember 'bout Freets is that their brain is sitting righ' in the middle of their body. Tha's where they're most fussy 'bout bein' touched. Tha's also where you gotta milk them from.

"Now, yeh've got ter pick them up by the ends to move them… like so," Hagrid demonstrated his words by removing the top of the tank and reaching cheerfully into the tank and grasping either end of the creature's body, lifting it heavily from the confines of the glass box. The Freet squirmed minutely for a moment or two before apparently sensing defeat and going still again, releasing a disgruntled hiss. Hagrid beamed at it before dropping it back into it's transparent prison. Harry watched apprehensively as it squirmed around a bit before making a dash at the open top of the tank, jumping alarmingly high in its attempt to escape.

Hagrid caught it easily, chuckling fondly again. "An' watch out fer tha'," he warned them, dropping the critter into it's tank yet again and this time swiftly placing the lid back on. "They'll make any bid fer freedom if they sense an opening, tricky li'l buggers. An' remember not ter touch their middles ever. They will send out a blast of magic into yer body tha' can do some nasty damage. These ones aren' very strong so it won't kill you, but it might leave yeh with a nasty shock."

Dubious glances were exchanged between classmates, but a collective agreement seemed to be made that these were no worse than plants they had dealt with in Herbology, and certainly not the most dangerous thing their strange teacher had deigned to show them. It was, therefore, with less trepidation than usual that they moved to pair up with the partners Hagrid called out for them. Harry found himself paired with Ron, and they grimaced at each other before tuning back in to listen as the cheery man who taught the class delivered the instructions for milking the Freet.

Harry found his eyes straying toward Draco again as he moved toward the basket that contained food for the unsightly creatures. The blonde was staring off into space, apparently lost in thought. As Harry watched, Theodore Nott placed a hand on the pale arm, causing the Malfoy heir to jump. A strange sort of rage filled the Gryffindor at the sight of the other Slytherin's hand on the Ice Prince's arm, and he found himself thinking alarmingly possessive thoughts toward the smaller boy. Shaking himself to clear his head, he quickly hurried to the food bin and retrieved the correct amount, rushing to where Ron was already waiting by their designated tank.

"Ready for this?" Ron asked seriously as Harry drew nearer. The brunet nodded, harried, and did his best to push his former nemesis from his mind. He deposited the food into the tank and they both waited as the Freet stopped writhing about for an escape long enough to notice the new development. Once it did, it approached warily and began eating. The boys waited until it seemed to have become engaged in this action before Harry stealthily lifted the lid and readied himself. Ron positioned himself on the other side of the tank, holding a dangerous looking steel apparatus, and locked eyes with Harry. Swallowing nervously, the redhead nodded.

Ron plunged the metal clamp down onto the middle of the Freet, and both boys' eyes widened at the sight of shocks of magic flowing through it, discharging safely into an attached bag. The critter, sensing that it's primary defence was doing no good, began to writhe and long, sharp pincers emerged from either end of it. Harry hurriedly slammed his hands down on the ends, as he had been instructed, holding the Freet in place. It was a lot more difficult than he had expected, as the wormlike creature seemed to have a strength belied by its appearance. Beside him, Ron grunted with the effort of holding the heavy metal device in place as the body of the Freet thrashed as much as it was able.

Two minutes later, both boys were thrown off as the creature managed to overpower the pair of them and make a dash for freedom. Harry recovered his wits first and scrambled after it, but it reached the magical barrier Hagrid had set up before he could grab it. He watched hopelessly as it was sent flying off to the awaiting tank beside Hagrid that already held three more stunned Freet. He caught Ron's eye and shrugged before heading back toward the redhead to see how much milk they had managed to gather.

He had not even made it back to their shared tank when a sharp cry of "Draco, no!" rent the air. Whirling around, Harry watched in horror as the blonde's hands closed around the middle of his escaping Freet. A burst of light and magic travelled through the creature and into the Slytherin and he fell immediately, the worm escaping his limp hands as his body crashed to the ground.

Harry rushed toward the fallen blonde, his heart leaping to his throat as Parkinson, crouched beside Draco, wailed, "He's not moving! It's killed him!" He had just reached the motionless Slytherin when Hagrid barged past, brushing the Golden Boy unceremoniously to the side.

"I don' understand," the half-giant was muttering gruffly, lifting one pale lid to peer into an unfocussed grey pupil. "It should only have been enough ter shock 'im." That said, the teacher lifted his inert pupil from the ground and swept back toward the mighty castle, Draco looking tiny and more dead than ever in his large arms. Harry stared after them, a feeling of horror sinking into the pit of his stomach.

He was brought back to the present by the sound of Ron snapping at a nearby Slytherin, who had apparently mentioned something along the lines of Hagrid being dangerous and this being just like third year. Still frantic with worry, Harry hurried over to his outspoken friend and steered him away. They were joined by Hermione, who was chewing her lip anxiously and staring at the castle after Hagrid.

"I wonder if Malfoy's okay," she worried, and Harry felt a rush of gratitude that there was someone else concerned, that it would not seem so strange that he was.

"I don't know," he replied, his eyes also flying to the great school. "I hope so," he added quietly, almost to himself. Beside him, Ron snorted loudly.

"I think it's pretty obvious that Malfoy is up to his same old tricks again," the redhead stated in a disgusted tone. "This is the same thing he did back in third year. The stupid git is trying to get Hagrid in trouble again. Honestly, he should have just been shipped off to Azkaban with the rest of the Death Eaters."

Harry felt a wave of resentment to the redhead at the words. Ron knew that it had been his own testament that had kept the blonde from Azkaban, and yet he still chose to make such a callous remark. He levelled a dark look at his friend and replied in a dangerous tone, "I don't think Draco faked fainting Ron."

"How would you know?" Ron retorted, oblivious to his friends anger. "He's done worse. I bet he can't wait to get Hagrid sacked. He's probably waiting for the day he graduates so he can start his own little Death Eater army, evil git that he is."

It was all Harry could do not to punch the redhead. He had just opened his mouth, intent on giving his best mate a thorough tongue lashing, when Hermione cut in. Whether she had sensed Harry's anger or was just wanting to get her two cents in, Harry wasn't sure, but he was grateful for her words nonetheless.

"He'd have no case Ron," she said placidly, placing a hand on her boyfriend's arm. "With low-level Freet being a teaching staple well sanctioned by the school board and his father stripped of his influence and thrown in prison, all he'd be able to get out of this is people clamouring that he deserved it and more." She worried her lip for a moment before adding, "I wish he were just messing about. There should have been no reason for the Freet to be that strong unless it was tampered with. It could be someone trying to engage in vigilante acts. We should keep an eye out."

Harry thought of someone trying to kill his Draco and immediately agreed. There was no way he was going to stand by while somebody was up to dangerous things within the castle. Especially not if they were after the gorgeous Slytherin. Ron, on the other side of Hermione, simply groaned and muttered something along the lines of 'Who bloody cares'. Harry shot the freckled boy a venomous look before Hermione's chastising voice filled his ears as she delivered her boyfriend a lecture on why exactly he should be caring, a lecture which lasted all the way back to the castle and into their next class.

Sitting through class, the boy hero found, was excruciating. He was not even sure of what was being taught, as he spent the entire period worrying over the blonde git that had him so enamoured. Draco would be okay, he would tell himself, only to spend the next half hour fretting over whether or not his words were true.

Harry managed to hold it in until about lunchtime before he broke, ditching his friends over the excuse of a missing book, and hastening for the hospital wing.

X0X0X0X0X0X

The creatures they were to be caring for today were ugly, Draco decided, looking dispassionately at the steel worm that Theo was slinging around by its ends. Still unsure as to what exactly they were to be doing with the thing, the blonde followed his darker haired companion toward a glass tank that appeared to be waiting for them and watched as he dropped the disgusting-looking critter into it.

"Quick Draco, the food," he requested, holding an expectant hand out behind him. Draco looked at it bemusedly.

"Food..?" He echoed, wondering idly what the thing even ate. Theodore shot him a disbelieving look over his shoulder and quickly slid a lid over the glass tank before turning to face the Slytherin Prince.

"Yes, the food. Draco, did you listen to anything Hagrid said?" he questioned. Draco's brows pulled together in a frown. No, he had been too busy trying to stop himself from jumping Potter's bones. Theo, however, was not to know that.

"Of course I was," he insisted instead, his well-worn façade keeping his fellow Slytherin from detecting his fib. Theodore seemed to buy it, and raised his hands in an unspoken exasperated question. Annoyed at having to expound on his lie, the blonde allowed a little petulance seep into his reply of, "You didn't really expect me to touch that disgusting fodder did you?"

"It's just leaves!" Cried his friend, throwing his arms up yet again. Draco turned his nose to the air to assure his classmate that, leaves or not, he was having no part of touching it. Theo rolled his eyes and grumbled at him to watch the stupid thing before stomping off, his body the picture of tense irritation. It really looked better on Harry, Draco thought.

Once the food was in the tank, Theodore explained to Draco that the blonde would have to hold down the Freet by its ends so that he could get the clamp around its middle. Then they would have to milk it for as long as they could before it broke free, and hopefully catch it and repeat the process. Draco wrinkled his nose, deciding quickly that he didn't want to touch the disgusting creature, and instead watched hungrily as Harry, two tanks away, positioned himself in preparation for his task. About a minute of watching Harry and the Weasel wrestle their worm, Theo wrapped up his instructions, clapping his hands together. Draco snapped his attention back just in time to watch his friend get into position. Grimacing, he followed the other Slytherin's lead, and hesitantly lurched forward at the signal to grab the ends of the critter.

It didn't last long. The Freet was incredibly strong, not to mention incredibly gross, and Draco's reluctance to touch it seemed to be sensed by the creature. It took all of thirty-two seconds for the menacing worm to fling them off and make a bid for freedom.

"Get it!" Theodore cried, struggling from where he had landed beneath Draco. Huffing, the blonde swiftly got to his feet and dashed over to the escaping critter. Annoyed at having to touch it again, he bent down, his hands closing around the middle of its body for a firm grip. The last thing he heard was a cry of "Draco, no!" before the world flashed white and then faded to black.

The first thing that he was aware of was that he was dry. It was a curious thing, as he was fairly certain that the sky had been spitting on him last time he checked. The next thing he noticed was that he was in a bed, scratchy sheets covering him, while a soft hand stroked his knuckles gently. Groaning, Draco cracked open his eyes, squinting against the white that made up the Hospital Wing.

The hand paused in it's stroking, and then a bustle of movement erupted to his left. Turning his head slightly, he had little time to brace himself before he was engulfed in an overeager embrace from his best friend.

"Drakey, thank Merlin you're okay!" Pansy shrieked, her loud voice cutting through the still and silent air like a knife and causing the Slytherin Prince to wince.

"What happened?" He queried, trying to sit up and falling back, dizzy and curious at the weak feeling in his body. Pansy placed her hands on her hips, frowning sternly down at him.

"You were an idiot, that's what!" She declared. "What were you thinking, grabbing that stupid thing around the middle?"

Her words were met with a bemused look from the ailing Slytherin. "I wasn't supposed to?" He asked, genuinely confused. Pansy let out a groan and sagged back into the chair that sat beside his bed.

"Merlin help me," she muttered, hiding her face in her palms. Draco frowned at her overdramatic behaviour, but before he could get a word out the curtains around his bed swept back to reveal Madame Pomfrey, bearing a potion vial and a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Out with you," where the first words out of the matron's mouth, directed at Pansy who pulled herself reluctantly from the chair. With a kiss on the forehead and a promise to visit him again soon, the girl exited the room. Madam Pomfrey shut the curtains behind her with a twitch of her wand before placing the potion and juice on his bedside table and settling in the seat that Pansy had vacated.

"I suppose you wish to know what happened." Although it was not stated as a question, Draco nodded his affirmative. The mediwitch sighed and straightened her robe slightly before looking at him. "How much do you know about Freet Mr. Malfoy?" She questioned, looking him directly in the eye. The Slytherin in question swallowed nervously, somehow feeling that there was no point in lying to the intimidating witch.

"I wasn't really paying much attention," he admitted, examining his cuticles closely. Madam Pomfrey nodded, as if not surprised by this admission, and Draco felt a wave of resentment toward her. It was Potter's fault he had been distracted. He was usually a great student.

"Freet have their brains, and also their magical centres, in the middle of their bodies. When something touches them there, they perceive it as an attack and retaliate by sending an influx of aggressive magic into the attackers body. If the Freet is strong enough, this can prove fateful." She paused here, giving Draco a curious glance. The blonde shifted his feet nervously before catching himself and schooling his features into stoic indifference again. The matron shook her head with a sigh and continued, "These Freet were rather weak. They should only have been able to shock. You see, your body doesn't just take in the incoming magic and let it attack. Subconsciously, the person in question will release their own available magic to combat the Freet magic, and thus tone down the attack. Depending on the strength of the Freets magic and of the persons magic, it results in different levels of severity."

Draco's throat suddenly went dry and he stared in horror at the matron. "Does… does that mean my magic…" he swallowed the lump in his throat self-consciously before trying again. "My magic is weak? It's not fading is it? Oh Merlin, I'm becoming a Squib! Kill me now!" He hid his face in his hands and let out a melodramatic moan that had Madam Pomfrey tutting.

"Oh hush you," the old woman chastised, pulling his hands back. "Your magic is fine."

"Then why-?" Draco stared up at her, uncomprehending. The matron sighed again, shaking her head.

"For some reason your body didn't react as it should. It only sent about the third of the amount of magic that it should have, and thus couldn't combat the offensive blast quite as well as it should have."

The Slytherin stared blankly at the woman. "But…why?" he asked, unable to fathom why his body would do such a thing. Madam Pomfrey shook her head sadly.

"I'm afraid that I'm at a loss, Mr. Malfoy," she informed him, lifting the potion vial from his bedside table and pressing it into his hands. "I can only imagine that you've exhausted your supply recently, and thus only had limited amounts of magic available. Can you think of anything you may have been doing that could have used more magic than usual?"

The blonde frowned, thinking back. Well…he had done nothing unusual recently… save for sex with Harry. But the matron was not to know that. Besides, that could hardly have used up his magic.

"I …suppose…I've been using my mother's wand since I returned to school," he offered awkwardly, glancing askance at her. "It doesn't really listen to me well. Perhaps it could have been siphoning more magic than necessary to perform the spells?" Gingerly, he sniffed at the potion in his grasp, trying to place it.

"It's to replenish your magic," the matron informed him, noticing his subtle attempts to determine the contents of the vial. "Drink it up, it will do you good." She furrowed her brow as she stood, considering his words. "I suppose your wand could have done that, although I have never heard of such a thing before. But I am no expert in wand lore. I suggest getting a proper wand Mr. Malfoy. It won't do to have your magic constantly drained. Drink the pumpkin juice after, there's a good lad." With those words, she swept off, leaving Draco to his relative solitude behind the heavy curtains.

Frowning to himself, the Slytherin gingerly sniffed at the vial yet again, before downing it in one go. A shudder of revulsion followed the act as the horrid taste of the concoction made itself known, and the blonde hurriedly snatched for the pumpkin juice. Relishing in the much more relieving taste, he cast his mind to his predicament. Although he had rescued his own wand from Potter, he had retained use of his mothers in classes and around the school. It was, he told himself, to throw off potential attackers, who would think he had a weak, non-compliant wand. It had absolutely nothing to do with him being afraid that Potter would see it and confront him. No, nothing to do with that at all.

Feeling tired once again, the Malfoy heir reclined back into a lying position, staring dully at the white ceiling above him. He had expected to feel a rush of invigorating magic filling him once the potion was ingested, but no such occurrence graced him. Rather, he felt a small buzz of magical energy that was nowhere near as grandiose as he had imagined.

Huffing slightly to himself, the blonde wondered what was going on. He was not stupid. He knew a lot about magic, coming from a pureblood family, and was sure he would have felt if the wand had been using more than its usual share of magic, and dipping into his reserves. He would have felt that the active magic had been drained, felt the fatigue that resulted from such an experience. Instead, he felt as though his active magic had still been very much present, even before he took the potion. The potion which had almost certainly not restored very much of it at all.

Lying there weighing his options, Draco frowned. He could call Madam Pomfrey back and explain that he had changed his mind, that it wasn't his mothers wand after all. But that meant staying here longer for tests, and that was certainly not something he wished for. No, leaving as soon as possible was preferred. Not to mention the fact that the blonde was rather scared that Madam Pomfrey might tell him that something was terribly wrong with him, that Voldemort had cursed him so that he slowly lost all of his magic and died. No, it was better to believe it was merely the wand. And so that's what Draco did. Casting aside all doubts from his mind, he allowed his eyes to flutter shut, lulled gently by the soothing

peace within the room.

When he next awoke, it was to a grumbling stomach and the noonday sun fighting through stark white curtains. A groan escaped his lips as his pale hands fluttered to his wand, only to discover that instead of his fine robes, he was clad in a flimsy hospital gown. Panic surged through his body, before rationality caught up and he calmed down enough to realize that Madam Pomfrey would have placed his possessions safely nearby. With that in mind, he pulled himself from the less-than-comfortable mattress and dragged himself over to his bedside table. Relief flowed over him as he tugged open the topmost drawer and found, lying peacefully within, his wands.

Swiping up his wand, he waved it before him, accompanying it with a muttered "_Tempus_". Seeing that it was, indeed about lunchtime, the boy strained his neck, looking around for Madam Pomfrey and the lunch tray that she ought to be bringing him. The Hospital Wing, however, was empty. Pouting, Draco crossed his arms in petulance and settled down to wait.

Ten minutes later, the hungry blonde was just deciding to ditch the Hospital Wing and make his way to the Great Hall to grab some grub when footsteps sounded, approaching his curtains. "Finally," muttered the irate Slytherin, rolling his eyes to himself as he settled imperiously to await the matron and, consequently, his lunch.

However, the person who rounded the drapes was about as far a cry from Madam Pomfrey as he could get. His heart leapt through to his throat upon seeing the wild mop of ebony hair, set above stunning emerald eyes that rested behind large round glasses. Harry Potter stood before him, a nervous and shy smile playing about his lips. Draco didn't even notice the lack of food tray as he shot from the bed to confront the brunet.

"Potter?" he gasped, taking in the gorgeous boy that stood before him. The Gryffindor didn't reply, instead staring unnervingly at the blonde. The force of Harry's intense gaze upon him made him self-conscious, and he drew the scratchy hospital sheets about himself, suddenly hyper-aware of the inadequate gown that made up his garb. "What are you doing here?" He hissed, pleased with the venom that masked his unease. Harry's face fell ever so slightly, and Draco banished the ridiculous need to apologize to the Golden Boy.

"I came to see if you were alright," came the quiet reply, Harry examining his feet as he spoke. Draco felt a pang of happiness in his heart at the words, the thought that the Gryffindor might actually care for him lifting his heart until he felt as though he were dancing on air. The Golden Boy apparently grew nervous with his silence, because he dragged his gaze from his own toes to settle it upon Draco's countenance. Stepping forward, he cupped the Slytherin Prince's cheeks. "Are you okay?" He whispered quietly, his eyes searching Draco's own.

Draco nodded dumbly, lost in the vivid verdant that held his own pewter gaze. His mind was barely working at Harry's proximity. The Golden Boy was so close that Draco could feel his breath fluttering across his lashes. It would be so easy to close the gap between their lips and…no! The blonde stumbled back, pushing the Gryffindor violently from him.

"What the bloody hell?" Cried the boy hero as he stumbled, his alarmed and angry eyes quickly finding the Slytherin's face. Draco shook his head mutely and backed away from him, a longing hunger running its fingers across his skin.

"Keep the bloody hell away from me!" He hissed, retreating as far as he could, until he felt the back of his knees hit the firm mattress behind him. This couldn't happen. If Harry didn't leave soon, Draco might lose control, might not be able to stop himself from doing what he had promised not to and snogging the Gryffindor for all he was worth.

The boy in question stepped forward, mouth dropping open somewhat. "Draco, what…?" He began, cut off when Draco violently shook his head again. Undaunted, the Golden Boy came further forward, trapping the smaller boy between his own body and the lumpy bed behind him. "I came to see if you were okay!" He said in a furious voice.

"Well I'm fine! Leave," Draco snarled, trying to contain the panic that was attempting to well up within him. Harry ignored his command, grabbing Draco's wrists and spinning them, pinning him harshly to the wall behind his bed. "Let me go!" Protested the blonde, squirming against the strong grip. Once again, his pleas were ignored.

"What happened out there?" Potter instead asked, his anger vanished now and a tone of genuine worry inflecting his voice. Draco shook his head, almost in tears now. Why was Potter here, doing this again? He had already made it clear to the Slytherin that there was no chance of them being together. So why, why was he here? Didn't he know how hard he was making this for the blonde? Suddenly, Draco was overcome by fury. How dare Harry continue playing him like this? Scowling, the Slytherin Prince shoved the brunet away from him.

"You don't get to know that, _Potter_," he snarled, moving around the bed so that it stood between he and Harry, a barrier of sorts. Harry moved toward him, opening his mouth to argue, but Draco cut him off.

"Look, you've made it clear you want nothing to do with me. I don't know why you're here…actually come to think of it, it's probably something to do with that infernal hero complex of yours. Either way, I don't care. You've asked me to leave you alone, and I've acquiesced, so if you could kindly return the favour it would be appreciated." The blonde's mouth attained an ugly twist as a new thought occurred to him, and he added angrily, "I swear I wasn't trying to get that bloody oaf fired or anything, so you can pack up that stupid need of yours to stand for the downtrodden and bugger off." His rant done, he glared at Harry, nostrils flaring with his harsh breathing.

The Golden Boy stood there, mouth agape as he stared at the slender blonde, seemingly too shocked for words. It took him nearly thirty seconds to finally shake off the surprise and gather his composure, taking a step toward the blonde. "Draco," he said weakly, moving in until he had cornered the fair boy again. "I never thought that you planned this. Why must you act this way?"

"Why?" Draco cut in, rage and a tinge of hurt colouring his tone. "Why? After what happened you have the gall to ask 'why'? You hurt me Potter. I gave myself to you, made myself vulnerable, and you threw it in my face! You turned me down in the harshest way possible. You didn't even let me explain before you drew your ridiculous conclusions. How would you have me act towards you after what you've done, huh? Tell me Potter! Tell me!" His voice had steadily gained volume, and by now he was nearly screaming, tears he didn't remember feeling pricking at his eyes. Heatedly, he shoved the Golden Boy away and turned around, wiping furiously at his face.

"Merlin Draco," Potter grumbled, irritation evident in his voice. Draco felt him step closer, that broad chest pressing strongly against his back. Stubbornly, he turned his head down, refusing to allow the speccy git to see just how devastated he was. At the Gryffindor's next words, however, the blonde stiffened. "Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"What?" He hissed dangerously, turning against the Golden Boy and forcing him back a few steps. Harry retreated in the most confrontational manner possible, his hackles raised and his bottle green eyes boring into his fair hair.

"It was just a fucking rejection," Potter retorted hotly, his glare fierce enough to drill holes in Draco's skull. "Stop acting like such a girl. It's not like I've killed your children or something. For Merlin's sake, you were the one who took advantage of me when I was drunk. And as if that wasn't enough, you sought me out after I told you to leave me be, and kept trying to lure me in. Yet you're trying to make me seem like the bad guy? Fuck you Malfoy!"

Draco took an involuntary step back as he drew in a ragged breath, feeling a stab of pain at Harry's words. Fighting down the urge to run somewhere dark to curl up and cry, the blond lifted his head to glower at the stupid Gryffindor, no longer caring if he saw the tears now silently winding their way, unhindered, down his cheeks.

"You're trying to blame it on me?" he whispered, allowing the distress and pain he felt to fuel the anger that still coursed through him. "You think I took advantage of you? You were the one who pulled me back, I was trying to leave! I didn't want to take it further, but you convinced me that you cared and I guess I was too weak to reject that." He inhaled shakily, wiping angrily at his eyes yet again before glaring at Harry.

"I believed you, Potter, and that's on me. But you were the one who fucked me and threw me aside! How am I supposed to be happy about that? Can you blame me for trying to make it work?" He was crying openly now, as well as yelling full out. "I suppose that it doesn't matter to you what happens to Death Eater scum, but don't try to make it out to be my fault. If someone treated your precious friends this way, would you accuse them of 'overreacting'? No, you would be championing for justice! Some fucking double standards those, aren't they? Just leave me the bloody fuck alone Potter!"

Panting harshly, Draco dropped his gaze from the bespectacled boy in front of him, belated shame of the most un-Malfoyish outburst welling slowly up. Potter's mouth moved silently, opening and closing as if he were searching for the right words to say, and suddenly the Slytherin felt a weariness stealing over him that had him turning away. He didn't want to hear anything that the Gryffindor had to tell him right now. Luckily, he was saved from whatever words the boy had been trying to express by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey, who bore his lunch tray and an exceedingly stern countenance.

"Mr. Potter," she said, pausing beside the Golden Boy to glower down at him. "I'd be grateful if you stopped distressing my patient and causing a ruckus in the Hospital Wing. If you would kindly be on your way." Her words seemed to pull Harry out of whatever trance he had been in and he gave the matron a quick nod before scampering out of the room.

The young Slytherin's shoulders drooped and he slumped back onto his bed, his rage quelled by the crushing grief that had hounded him from the day before. The matron gave him a curious look before sighing and setting the tray down on his bedside table.

"Eat up Mr. Malfoy, I daresay it will do you some good. Did you take your potion this morning? Ah, I see you did. Very good," Madam Pomfrey nodded approvingly, gathering up the empty vial and goblet from earlier before turning to look at the gloomy Malfoy heir appraisingly. "Did the potion help at all?" She asked, her tact preventing her from asking any questions about his current state of distress. That is, if she cared at all, which was unlikely considering that Draco knew that she disliked him. Sighing gloomily, he shrugged.

"It worked fine," he offered in a mumble, dragging the tray of food to his lap and staring at it, his ravenous appetite from just ten minutes prior no longer present. Madamn Pomfrey gazed upon him for a moment longer before sighing and turning away, heading toward her office. Before she entered, the matron paused and looked back on the blonde.

"You may leave after you eat," she informed him, watching as he nodded dully before she shook her head sadly sand retreated into the other room. Draco gazed unseeingly at his food for a moment before sliding out of bed, slipping the tray off his lap and leaving it resting upon the messy sheets. Moving almost mechanically, he dressed himself in his regular attire and collected his possessions before hastening out of the Hospital Wing and making his way to his chambers down in the dungeons.

The dorm was empty when he entered, so Draco locked the door and slumped his way over to his own bed, burying his face in his hands and allowing an explosive sigh to escape him. The argument with Harry seemed to have taken everything out of him, and right now the Slytherin wanted nothing more than to curl up and cry himself to sleep, despite having just woken up.

"It'll be alright Draco," he whispered bracingly to himself, furiously swiping at his face to remove the traces of water that had leaked down onto his flushed cheeks. His chest hurt, his eyes itched, and his whole body ached from the shaking sobs still wracking his body. Cursing himself for his own weakness, the blonde folded himself into a miserable ball and lost himself to his sorrow.

X0X0X0X0X0X

The Hospital Wing was quiet when Harry entered. Warm sunlight appeared to have finally been victorious against the oppressive clouds of earlier, for it drifted in sedately through the opened drapes of the clean room. The beds all were empty, save for one that sat on the far end of the room, closed of by the stark hangings meant to protect the privacy of its occupants. Taking in a deep, steadying breath, the Golden Boy made his way over to the curtained bed and rounded the drapes, emerald eyes searching keenly for the silver-blonde that haunted his dreams.

He wasn't disappointed. Draco sat, leant against the flimsy headboard with his arms crossed in expectation, his chin jutting and defiant. As Harry watched, the self-confidant pose melted away and alarm flitted across the Slytherin's fair features. He smiled nervously as he looked upon the Ice Prince, relief flooding through him at the sight of the obviously alive and fairly healthy boy.

The boy in question appeared, at that moment, to have gotten over his initial shock as he fairly leapt out of bed, silvery eyes never leaving Harry's own face. The gasp of his name that followed did funny things to the Gryffindor's nether regions. He stared at the pale boy before him, appreciatively taking in the sight of the endless pale skin that was barely covered by the sparse gown that barely adorned the Slytherin's body. Draco seemed to take notice of his scrutiny, for at that moment he tugged the sheets off the bed and pulled them in front of himself. Harry silently mourned at the loss of skin before Draco distracted him with an angry question.

"What are you doing here?" The Slytherin hissed, and Harry felt himself deflate at the hatred in his voice. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, refusing to look at the other boy.

"I came to see if you were alright," he murmured, feeling exceedingly foolish. His explanation was met with silence that only served to increase his sudden desire to flee. Nervously, he glanced up at the boy he had come to visit. The blonde was staring at him, a war of emotions tugging across his face. Gathering his courage, Harry stepped forward. Gently, he placed his hand on one pale, smooth cheek and ducked his head, staring into the large grey eyes that were framed by such thick blonde lashes. "Are you okay?" he asked lowly. He felt, rather than heard, Draco's breath catching in his throat as the fair boy met his gaze.

Something sparked low in Harry's belly , and he involuntarily moved in closer, near enough that he could feel the soft puffs of breath wafting across his lips. His heart pounded in his chest as Draco leant in a bit, pewter eyes fluttering shut. He felt his own lids pulling lower as he held his breath in anticipation of the touch of soft lips pressing against his own.

It never came, for the next thing he knew, the Saviour was being shoved roughly back, stumbling and nearly falling against the curtains. Angry and shocked, he righted himself and glared at the wide-eyed Slytherin. "What the bloody hell?" he demanded, indignation coursing through him. The blonde didn't answer him immediately, merely shaking his head and retreating silently.

"Keep the bloody hell away from me!" Came the belated reply, accompanied with hostile narrowing of those silver eyes. The young Gryffindor stared, taken aback, wondering what the Malfoy-heir's problem was. Before he could ask, the Slytherin began moving again and glaring all the while, retreating until he had backed himself against the bed. He paused then, clearly wondering what to do next, and Harry saw his opportunity. The brunet stepped forward again, determined to voice his confusion as to the blonde's hostile behaviour. "Draco, what-?" He began, but was cut off when the blonde angrily shook his head, every muscle in his pale body tense with agitation. Harry, however, refused to be dissuaded, and instead moved even closer, blocking the Slytherin in with his body.

"I came to see if you were okay!" He ground out, glaring at the ungrateful boy before him. Pewter eyes suddenly snapped up to meet his, and he found himself faced with a gaze that every bit as angry as his own, if not more so. Draco once again jutted his chin out, puffing up in what appeared to be an attempt to intimidate the taller Gryffindor.

"Well I'm fine!" Retorted the blonde, his tone clearly conveying unadulterated anger . "Leave!" Harry stared indignantly at the blond, sudden and irrational rage coursing through him. Of all the ungrateful little- He had been so worried and this brat was treating it like it was nothing, refusing to even give a straight answer! Snarling, he grabbed the pale wrists and spun them around, pinning Draco to the wall beside the bed. Immediately, the blonde began squirming and begging to be let go. Harry almost moaned aloud at the feeling of the Slytherin writhing against him, and instead focussed on reigning in his arousal.

"What happened out there?" He finally managed to get out, the anger seeping out of his voice as he recalled the events that had led to this incident, recalled how Draco had lain so still on the rainy grounds. The blonde in question shook his head, his eyes tightly shut, and Harry was once again struck with the urge to kiss him. He was beginning to have serious trouble remembering why it was a bad idea when the fair boy scowled again and shoved him back. Caught of guard, the Gryffindor stumbled again, nearly falling once more before he caught himself on the bed and righted himself. Looking back up, he found that the Slytherin had moved away and around the bed.

"You don't get to know that, _Potter._" The Malfoy-heir snarled, spitting out Harry's last name with such a familiar venom that the brunet started. Shaking it off, he opened his mouth to protest when Draco spoke again delving into an angry rant. Harry stared, shocked, as the blonde worked himself up into a bit of a tizzy. "Look, you've made it clear you want nothing to do with me. I don't know why you're here…actually come to think of it, it's probably something to do with that infernal hero complex of yours. Either way, I don't care. You've asked me to leave you alone, and I've acquiesced, so if you could kindly return the favour it would be appreciated. I swear I wasn't trying to get that bloody oaf fired or anything, so you can pack up that stupid need of yours to stand for the downtrodden and bugger off."

A deafening silence followed the words, punctuated only by the harsh sounds of Draco breathing as he glared at Harry, chest heaving. The brunet didn't move, simply stared wide-eyed at the angry Slytherin, shocked at the outburst. A few moments passed in silence before he gathered his wits about him and stepped forward, his eyes never leaving the fair haired boy's face.

"Draco," he said desperately, moving in closer to the shorter boy. The blonde shook his head again and tried to back away, but Harry didn't stop advancing, stepping toward the Slytherin until he had him backed into a corner. "I never thought you planned this!" He assured, feeling vaguely disappointed that other boy would think that. Sadly, he added, "Why must you act this way?"

That was evidently the wrong thing to say, as Draco immediately bristled. "Why?" He snarled, recoiling as best he could from Harry's proximity. "Why? After what happened you have the gall to ask 'why'? You hurt me Potter. I gave myself to you, made myself vulnerable, and you threw it in my face! You turned me down in the harshest way possible. You didn't even let me explain before you drew your ridiculous conclusions. How would you have me act towards you after what you've done, huh? Tell me Potter! Tell me!" Harry listened as the blonde yelled at him, growing in volume, and annoyance began coursing through as he listened to the overdramatic complaints. By the timeDraco shoved him back yet again and turned away, bringing his hands up to his face, Harry was too irked to worry about the fact that the Slytherin was evidently crying. Instead he scowled at the blonde, flicking unruly black locks out of his eyes in irritation.

"Merlin Draco," he groused, wonderment and incredulity at the way the blonde painted himself as some blushing virgin victim, when everyone knew of his rather loose reputation, sparking in his head. He pressed in, pushing the Slytherin against the wall with his body and trying to peek around at his face. The other boy thwarted his efforts immediately by ducking his head, his body still shaking with his anger. "Don't you think you're overreacting?" Harry hissed, annoyed by the reaction. Draco went rigid against him.

"What?" The blondes voice was a venomous whisper as he turned around, forcing Harry a few steps back. Harry refused to be cowed, glaring steadily at the beautiful twat.

"It was just a fucking rejection," he snapped hotly, scowling at the top of Malfoy's head as the other boy continued glaring at his knees. "Stop acting like such a girl. It's not like I've killed your children or something." Anger coursed through him as he remembered how the blonde had fucked his drunken self, and he snarled his next words. "For Merlin's sake, you were the one who took advantage of me when I was drunk. And as if that wasn't enough, you sought me out after I told you to leave me be, and kept trying to lure me in." He drew in a ragged breath, and then growled, "yet you're trying to make me seem like the bad guy? Fuck you Malfoy!"

Draco, to his credit, wouldn't be cowed. He lifted his head to meet Harry's eyes with a dark glower, uncaring of the tears silently making their way down his pale face. "You're trying to blame it on me?" He questioned, his voice a deadly whisper that had Harry shivering involuntarily. "You think I took advantage of you? You were the one who pulled me back when I was trying to leave! I didn't want to take it further but you convinced me you cared and I guess I was too weak to reject that." Draco paused to swipe at his eyes while Harry stared at him, warring between desperately wanting to know more about the night he had forgotten and wanting to shut Draco up before he said something that would force Harry to accept responsibility for his actions.

A moment later, though, before he could make up his mind, the glare had returned and the blonde continued speaking. "I believed you, Potter, and that's on me. But you were the one who fucked me and threw me aside! How am I supposed to be happy about that? Can you blame me for trying to make it work?" Draco was yelling at him now, tears flooding down his cheeks, but Harry barely noticed them, caught up as he was in the words that were being thrown at him, words he didn't want to hear that brought feelings of shame and guilt and _responsibility_. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to close his ears, to block them out and go back to his safe world of denial where this whole mess was the Slytherin's fault, but the other boy hadn't finished yet.

"I suppose that it doesn't matter to you what happens to Death Eater scum, but don't try to make it out to be my fault. If someone treated your precious friends this way, would you accuse them of 'overreacting'? No, you would be championing for justice! Some fucking double standards those, aren't they? Just leave me the bloody fuck alone Potter!"

The words struck Harry hard as he suddenly found himself looking at the mess from Draco's perspective, and he could do nothing but gape stupidly at the blonde. Responses flew to his throat and jumbled there, trying to push out first, from the automatic denials and harsh accusations he had hid behind before to the begging of forgiveness for what he had done to the boy. The Slytherin's shoulders slumped, before Harry could sort through his feelings, and the other boy turned away. A pain suddenly rose in Harry's chest and he wanted nothing more than to go and embrace the other boy and kiss away his hurt, the hurt that he had caused and was only now realising the depth of.

Before he had the chance to act oh his feelings, however, the door to the hospital wing swept open behind him and admitted the matron, whose expression hardened at the sight of him.

"Mr. Potter," she greeted in a tone that told him in no uncertain terms of her displeasure at his presence. "I'd be grateful if you stopped distressing my patient and causing a ruckus in the Hospital Wing. If you would kindly be on your way."

Nodding numbly, Harry turned and all but dashed from the room. His head was swirling and he felt vaguely that he might need to throw up, but he pushed forward until he located an empty classroom and stumbled into it, shutting the door carelessly behind him. Sinking to the stone floor, the Gryffindor buried his face into his hands as the tide of confusion, shame, and guilt that was swirling within him threatened to spill over and drown him in its intensity.

Had he really done that to Draco? Had he, for all intents and purposes, 'fucked and chucked' the blonde? Unwillingly, his mind returned to the Slytherin's words. 'If someone treated your friends this way'… How would he react? Immediately, his brain brought up images of Hermione, of Ginny, even of Ron, being lured into someone's bed by the promise of love only to be harshly rejected once the act was done. True to form, a sense of righteous anger filled him on their behalf, and it left him feeling disgusted with himself that he could do that to another. Was he truly that kind of person?

He couldn't be, right? Draco should have known not to trust a drunk mans assurances of love. What kind of idiot was he, to believe that his enemy of seven years would secretly be harbouring affections for him?

'_But I am!'_ insisted a little voice in Harry's head, one that he banished with an alarming speed. It didn't matter now anyway, there was nothing he could do. What was done was done, and he could not undo it. Not without hurting Ginny, and if he left her at this point, he would pretty much have fucked and chucked her too. And really, when it came down to it, had he to choose between hurting Draco this way or hurting Ginny this way, it would always be the Slytherin. After all, the boy had made his life hell for seven years while Ginny had never wavered from his side. Perhaps this was merely some poetic justice he had dealt to the blonde. He felt sick for thinking it.

By the time the bell sounded to alert students that their lunch break was over, Harry was in a mess. He had gotten no further in his moral predicament; rather, he had managed to make himself feel much worse. Plagued by guilt and self-loathing, he heavily got up and trudged despondently to his next class, where Hermione and Ron awaited him armed with questions as to his whereabouts. Feeling a headache rising, he fed them a half-hearted lie about having his foot stuck in the trick stair for the majority of their lunch break. They seemed to buy it, Hermione with a reproaching frown and Ron with sniggers, neither of them brought it up again for the rest of class, allowing Harry to wallow in his mind undisturbed for the rest of the afternoon.

The feelings still clung to him as he trudged along behind his two best friends come suppertime, making their way once more to the Great. His eyes immediately followed the now familiar path to the Slytherin table, but Draco appeared not to have arrived yet, for his seat yawned conspicuously empty at the Slytherin table. Not sure whether this should be constituted as a positive development or not, the boy wonder trailed after the other Gryffindors as they headed for their designated table. He barely managed to plant his rump in his seat before arms suddenly threw themselves around his shoulders from behind and Ginny's chirpy voice sounded in his ear.

"I've missed you today Harry!" The girl declared as her nose brushed through his hair, shortly preceding the slight nip that she lay on his ear. As always when she embraced him, Harry was hyper-aware of the press of her breasts against his back, a situation that, uncomfortable as it was, had the blessed effect of dragging his mind away from haunting thoughts of his encounter with Draco. Turning his head, he offered the pretty redhead a perfunctory smile.

"Hey Gin," he replied, trying to inject some modicum of non-platonic affection into his voice. "I've missed you too!" His efforts seemed successful, for the youngest Weasley beamed at him before settling into the seat beside him and, before he could react, leaning forward and placing her lips firmly on his.

Uncomfortably aware that the eyes of his friends and classmates all seemed to have found he and his girlfriend, Harry did his best to return the kiss, hesitantly pushing his tongue into her willing mouth. Unsure of what to do with it, he was almost relieved when his tongue was swept up by her own, engaging in a dance that he could neither follow nor keep pace with. Ginny quickly took note of this, her eyes turning disappointed as she pulled away, but a small smile played nevertheless upon her lips.

"Shy are we?" She teased in a gentle whisper, pecking his cheek with a quick kiss before turning toward the table and piling dinner onto her plate. Grasping at the provided excuse with extreme relief, Harry offered a nod and an awkward chuckle of assent before following her lead and loading his own dish.

His appetite fled, however, the moment he tucked his fork into the succulent fodder before him. With Ginny's attentions no longer providing the awkward but effective distraction from his melancholy brooding, the tidal wave of feelings that had plagued him since he had last seen Draco returned with a vengeance. They whirled around his gut with such force that even the thought of food joining them down there caused a feeling of illness to beleaguer the bespectacled boy. Gulping desperately for some much needed air, the boy hero pushed his dinner away from him as inconspicuously as possible and closed his eyes, trying to take deep, calming breaths. It took all of his willpower not to scream out under the pressure of his guilty and horrified conscience.

The end of dinner came as nothing but a relief to the young Gryffindor, and he leapt to his feet, all too eager to escape the oppressive hall. He hoped to find some respite within the common room that awaited him atop the tower, but of course, that wasn't to be. Stepping into the familiar space, he was greeted with no wash of comfort or calming that the room usually offered him, and it was with a certain sense of moroseness that he waved off Ron's offer of Exploding Snap, claiming drowsiness. Both of his best friends accepted his excuse without comment, although Hermione did offer yet another of her alarmingly suspicious stares, and Harry was able to escape to his dorm without further trouble. That is, until he heard footsteps behind him, making their way up the stairs. A sigh rose in his throat as he turned to face the intruder, verdant eyes alighting upon Ginny Weasley's slender form.

"Hey Harry," she greeted softly, softly treading closer to him. Unable to muster up more than a weak smile, the boy in question murmured a soft response to his girlfriend as he took her into his arms. She returned the embrace immediately, her gentle brown eyes flitting up worriedly to meet his own emerald gaze. "Are you okay?" She murmured to him, her hand coming up to brush away a stray clump of hair that had fallen into his face. Harry stared at her, gulping. No, he was not okay. He had done a horrid thing, sleeping with both her and Draco. The boy he cared for over her, the boy he had hurt terribly, the boy he would not leave her for. He was not okay, because he was denying his heart what he truly wanted. He was not okay because he was lying to everyone he cared about, especially to her. He was not okay-

"Yes," he replied hoarsely, before clearing his throat slightly and trying again, nodding this time for emphasis. "Yes." Ginny didn't entirely believe him, if her continued examination of his eyes was any indication, but she chose not to counter his assertion.

'_I did the right thing,' _he told himself yet again, _'someone would be hurt no matter what, it was either her or him. And she doesn't deserve it. Not Ginny. She's done so much, been so strong. She deserves some happiness.'_

'_But what about you?' _Another voice, unexpected, rose in Harry's mind. _'You're not happy with her. Don't you deserve happiness too? Haven't you done more, lost more, than anyone?' _No. Harry shook his head firmly. He had made the correct decision and was not going to allow himself to be convinced of anything else. He had to have done the right thing, had to, or he would lose his mind. If he had, then hurting Draco was okay, it needed to be done. If not for him, then for Ginny. And though it hurt him too, to think of what he had done, he would be able to live with himself as long as he had done the right thing.

Looking up at Ginny's warm eyes boring into him, Harry made up his mind, grabbing her closely and pushing his lips to hers. Her coo of delight at him being the initiator was not lost on him. If he was going to make these sacrifices, do what he had done to both himself and Draco, to do right by Ginny then damn it, he was going to do right by her. Not some half-arsed assurances of love. He was going to be a proper boyfriend and he was either going to learn to enjoy it or he was going to think of England, but either way, this half-hearted relationship was not going to continue.

Wordlessly casting locking and silencing charms at the door, Harry turned to his girlfriend. Her eyes had turned dark, pupils dilated with lust, her small pink tongue darting out to swipe at her lips. The sight was uncomfortable, but once again the discomfort drove from him thoughts of the blonde that he had spurned, and he grasped at the feeling as he drove their lips together once more, his tongue easily parting her mouth and diving in. This time there was no hesitance on his part as he determinedly explored the warm cavern, every voice shrieking 'what are you doing?' welcomed as they drove out the previous voices of guilt and self-loathing.

Without warning, he slammed her to the wall and pinned her there, one hand encircling both her wrists and holding them above her head. He continued to devour her mouth as his other hand slid beneath her uniform, creeping up her slender body until they came upon her bra, a front clasp that he quickly did away with so that he could take one ample breast into his hand. And for the first time, Harry enjoyed touching his girlfriend in this way. It was not that it felt sexy, attractive, or even good. Rather, it felt right. Like this is what he was supposed to be doing, and by doing it, he could be forgiven for his earlier misdeeds. Not to mention that, not once did Harry fall back into his dark thoughts of earlier.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Draco immediately frowned upon waking, his face feeling rather stiff from the salty tracks of dried tears that ran down his cheeks. Letting out an undignified huff, the Malfoy heir pulled himself into a sitting position, his silver gaze taking in his open drapes and rumpled school uniform. He had cried himself to sleep. Disgusted with himself for his unseemly show of emotion, the blonde dragged himself from the bed and made his way quietly to the bathroom.

He felt better this morning. Not good, no, far from that, but better. His heart still ached and tears lurked behind his eyes, but it was no longer crippling and he could hold them back. Perhaps he was moving on. He certainly hoped so. The thoughts of Potter that surfaced, as they always did during his morning routine, no longer brought him agony, but rather a dull throb that he found he could ignore if he tried hard enough. Apparently, screaming at Potter and then breaking it off to the boys face had been therapeutic. Draco's lips quirked slightly at that. Had he known, he would have gone off with the boy days ago. Merlin knew he had reason. to

The opening of the bathroom door startled him from his thoughts, and his head jerked up at the same time as his hands desperately grasped for a towel to cover him. His sterling eyes met startled brown ones as Theodore yelped and dropped his bag of toiletries.

"Bloody hell Draco, why didn't you put your clothes on before leaving the shower?" The dark-haired Slytherin cried, a blush spreading across his face. Draco frowned at his friend as he registered the words, his Malfoy pride rearing its head. Who was Theo to tell him what to do? Sticking his nose into the air, the Ice Prince decisively dropped his towel and returned to doing his hair.

"I'll do as I please," he informed his friend, before adding haughtily, "a Malfoy is never ashamed of his body." Theodore, in return, let out a resigned and semi-frustrated sigh and shook his head, clearly deciding that the stubborn blonde was in another one of his mood swings.

"If you say so," he groaned, bending to collect his assorted belongings from the cold floor. Draco paused from fiddling with his locks just long enough to poke his tongue at the back of Theo's head from over his shoulder before turning back to the mirror, which promptly cooed alarmingly at his nude state.

"Sod off," the blonde grouched at the mirror, before turning and repeating the words to his laughing classmate. Sighing in frustration, he returned to his earlier task of fixing his hair, fiddling and prodding with it as he did every morning. Then, as he leaned closer to the glass, he saw Theo's reflection blatantly checking out his arse.

An unmanly squeak followed the observation as Draco whipped around, his carefully arranged hair flying out of place once more. His friend cocked an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly at the disarray. "What is it now, drama queen?" he asked, his voice a perfect blend of exasperation and innocence. Draco narrowed silver eyes at the brunet.

"You were ogling me!" he accused, hands resting on his hips in the perfect picture of righteous indignation. Rather than disagree, Theo simply licked his lips and leered at Draco's naked bits before nodding in agreement, causing a pink flush to rise on the blonde's cheeks.

"Figured since you're so keen on putting it on display, I may as well enjoy the view," he retorted. Draco gaped at him a moment before hurriedly snapping his jaw shut, silently berating himself for the plebeian action. He was still uncomfortably aware of his friends' eyes centered on his groin, and his first instinct was to cover himself.

Halfway through bending for his towel to do just that, he noticed that mouth quirked again in a smirk, this time one of triumph, and he scowled. What had he been thinking? He could not cover himself now! To do so would be basically admitting to the older boys superiority. He had just asserted his right to go through his morning routines in the nude, and to flee that course of action with his tail between his legs would just be giving power to the other Slytherin. Angry at the world in general, the Malfoy heir straightened up again and, cursing under his breath, determinedly ignored the other boy and went back to his primping. Theodore's smirk, rather than diminishing, only grew alarmingly at this but Draco refused to acknowledge him, going through the remainder of his morning motions with the uncomfortable feeling of being stared at haunting his movements.

It was the tenting in the other boys pants, clearly visible through the mirror, that did it. Shocked and mortified, the blonde rushed out of the bathroom with his hair still fluffy and his face not yet exfoliated. By the time he made it to the common room, half an hour ahead of schedule, he was distinctly grumpy at being not at all as pristine as he would have preferred. Pansy raised an eyebrow at him, doubtlessly wondering as to his frumpy state, and he sent her a glower, a wordless threat against mentioning anything in regards to his appearance. The girl gave a long suffering sigh at the look but dropped the issue without complaint, falling into step beside him as the pair made their way to breakfast.

As he settled at the Slytherin table, Draco's thoughts again turned, unbidden, towards one Harry Potter. Scowling at his oats, the Malfoy heir tried to banish the boy from his mind, but it was not to be. At least thoughts of the Golden Boy didn't hurt quite so much anymore. There was no more unbearable ache in his chest as he pined for the boy, just a sense of loss and longing that was smothered, as though he had hidden it beneath a particularly thick fleece. It rather made his head hurt actually.

His head continued hurting throughout the day, and by the time lunch had rolled around the slight pain had developed into a full out pounding headache. Draco could no longer even blame his feelings for Potter, since the headache had long since distracted him from thoughts of the boy.

"Pansy it huuurts," he whined, for what was probably the ninth time that hour. The dark haired girl beside him just gave a short huff as she dug her spoon into her pudding.

"Merlin's sake Draco, take a Headache Potion!" She finally burst out as he opened his mouth to bemoan his situation yet again. Snapping it shut, Draco gave her an evil glare for daring to not sympathise with his plight.

"I don't have one," he finally replied, petulance richly colouring his tone. Pansy turned to glare at him.

"Then go ask Madam Pomfrey," she gritted out. Draco eyed her hand that was clutched tightly around the handle of the spoon, absently wondering how much worse his headache would get when she finally snapped and threw it at him. Taking his chances, he moaned out again.

"But I don't want to go all the way there! I have a headache!"

Pansy slammed her fist down onto the table, causing several people around them to turn in alarm. "You'll have a lot more than a headache if you don't get your sorry whinging arse away from me," she snarled at him. When Draco didn't move, she whipped out her wand and levelled it at him threateningly. "Go." She ordered, her tone brooking no argument.

Draco shot her a dark look but obediently dragged himself up from the table, moaning automatically as the movement set another wave of pounding pain through his head. Cursing at the world in general, the Slytherin stormed out of the Great Hall and began making his way toward the Hospital Wing.

X0X0X0X0X0X

The first thing that Harry noticed upon waking was that something was off. He frowned, bringing a lethargic hand up to rub at his face as he idly wondered what was off. It wasn't until he had fumbled for his glasses, dropped them on the floor, and cussed loudly did he realize what it was. The silence. Normally the room would be filled with the quiet sounds of slumber, or the noises that accompanied early morning routines as five boys went about getting ready for the day. Alarmed, Harry tugged out his wand and cast a quick _Tempus_, verdant eyes widening as the spell showed that he was almost late for his first class.

Tugging on his clothing in record time, the boy raced down the stairs, his robes flapping wildly behind him. He managed to reach Charms just before the bell rang and as he slid, panting, into his seat, he directed a glower at his best friend.

"Why didn't you wake me?" He hissed, and Ron shot him an apologetic look.

"I tried mate, but you nearly hexed me in your sleep," he explained. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his rumpled hair, ignoring the snickers at his haphazard appearance. He remembered now how he had attempted to distract himself with Ginny the night before. It had worked right up until he had to put it in, and then his mind had immediately reverted to thinking about Draco. This time he had come, and it had been all he was able to do to let out a wordless cry instead of the name of the boy who he was supposed to hate. Feeling dirty and disgusted with himself, he had kissed Ginny and convinced her to return to her own room before Ron came looking. He had then proceeded to lock himself behind his bed hangings and mentally berate himself until the wee hours of the morning when he finally fell into a distinctly restless sleep.

Just remembering it caused a dark scowl to appear on his face, prompting Ron to give him an alarmed look. Ignoring the redhead, Harry glanced about the classroom to find the blonde who just wouldn't leave his mind. It didn't take him long to locate the other boy. He was sitting two rows in behind and slightly to the left of Harry, and looking delicious. For once his hair wasn't slicked strictly back, instead hanging softly loose, brushing his ears and the tops of his eyebrows. It looked softer than ever, and Harry was struck by the now predictable urge to bury his hands into it… preferably whilst burying other parts of himself into more intimate areas.

Aand there his mind went, again into the gutter. Harry scowled again. He had a beautiful lovely girlfriend who was perfect for him, but he still lusted after Malfoy, who was not only male but a Slytherin, Death Eater, and git extraordinaire. Not to mention that he, Harry, had already blown his chances with the other boy, after having been a total twat to him.

No no, he wasn't supposed to be regretting that. He had done the right thing. Harry groaned and buried his head in his hands as once again the confusing thoughts of the day previous came back to swirl in his head. Sighing, he resigned himself to yet another day of guilt, self-loathing, and confusion.

Harry picked at his lunch morosely, ignoring the chatter sounding around him. Ron had long since given up trying to get the Saviour to talk, and Hermione's nose was hidden in a book and she for once had not noticed anything amiss. Ginny was settled a little ways down the hall, having come over to kiss Harry at the beginning of lunch and inform him that she was making some time for the friends who had too much hero worship to be allowed near Harry. The boy in question had felt an intense sense of relief at her foresight to keep them away.

However, that meant she was not around to distract him, so he was currently fluctuating between wallowing in self-pity and staring concernedly at the blonde across the hall. It had not escaped his notice that, throughout the day, Draco had frequently clutched at his head and appeared to be annoying his fellow Slytherins to no end moaning about something or another. Harry wanted dearly to know that the Slytherin was alright, but there was no way of finding out short of going over there- and the Golden Boy knew where he wasn't wanted.

He had just given up on the remainder of his lunch when a commotion broke out across the hall. His head whipped up just in time to see Parkinson brandishing her wand at his Draco. He bristled angrily, but before he could do anything the blonde had left his seat and stormed out of the hall, although not before shooting the girl a death glare that Harry had been on the receiving end of all to often before the war.

It didn't even take him a second to make the decision to follow Draco. He had done it so often in the sixth year that even Ron didn't comment, merely rolling his eyes as Harry dashed past him and out the enormous doors.

Draco hadn't gotten far, and Harry paused to quickly pull out his ever-present invisibility cloak and swing it onto himself before setting after the striking boy at a quick pace. The Slytherin had slowed, clutching at his head in a melodramatic way that Harry had always thought he just put on for show and grumbling loudly about how Pansy Parkinson was a sodding bone-headed twit. Harry found himself dubbing the blonde 'cute' before he could stop himself, and he frowned inwardly. He really was in deep if he found this undoubtedly bratty behaviour cute.

It wasn't long before they reached the familiar sterile air of the Hospital Wing. It was utterly deserted, although the quiet didn't last long as Draco, who had promptly quit his tirade on Pansy upon arriving, threw himself onto a bed and moaned loudly for Madam Pomfrey. The matron wasted no time in hurrying out of her office, her wide eyes searching for whichever unfortunate student needed her care. As they alighted upon Draco's relatively healthy form, some of the tension visibly slipped from her body and she approached him more calmly.

"Why Mr. Malfoy, whatever is the problem?" She questioned, withdrawing her wand. Draco gestured at his head, wincing slightly.

"I have the most horrid headache…I think I've been cursed," he explained, causing one of the woman's eyebrows to lift.

"Cursed?" She echoed sceptically. Draco nodded emphatically.

"Malfoys don't get headaches without reason," he expounded, lifting his head slightly in pride as he did whenever he spoke of the various virtues that came with being scion of the Malfoy family.

"Of course," Madam Pomfrey sighed to herself and handed Draco a standard Headache Potion. "I daresay this will take care of things Mr. Malfoy. Now run along. You wouldn't want to be late for classes."

Draco reluctantly took the potion from Madam Pomfrey with a slight grimace and downed it instantly. Looking relieved, he stood and thanked her quickly before leaving the infirmary. Harry followed, feeling slightly cheated that nothing had happened to allow him to touch Draco, and at the same time relieved that the Slytherin was okay.

His relief was short lived, however, as a few hallways later Draco let out a small whimper, the only warning before he dashed to the nearest toilet. The Gryffindor followed the pale boy instantly, his heart pounding in his throat as he heard the unmistakable sounds of retching coming from the stall the Slytherin had just vanished into, followed by the sick spatter of bodily fluids hitting the water in the toilet bowl. It was followed by a light sniffling and then a flush, before the door opened and the smaller boy walked out, tears evident in his eyes. Looking dejected, the blonde made his way to the sinks and washed his face, groaning intermittently and again clutching at his head.

So the headache potion hadn't worked then. Was that what he had tossed up? Harry's worry for the Slytherin returned twofold, and he silently hoped that Draco would return to Madam Pomfrey to let her know of this new development.

It was not to be however: upon leaving the bathroom, Draco promptly turned right and continued on to Transfiguration. Dismayed, Harry quickly slipped of the cloak before also exiting the bathroom, rushing to catch up to the blonde.

"Draco," he called out, watching as the lithe boy stiffened, shoulders raising defensively as he turned to face Harry.

"What do you want Potter?" Came the tired question, and the Gryffindor couldn't help but to notice the defeat residing in the pale eyes, and the need to hug the blonde and protect him from the world rose. He absently reached out to brush one of those silky looking strands of hair out of pale eyelashes, alarmed when the Slytherin twitched out of his reach.

"Ummm…are you okay?" He questioned, pulling his hands behind his back and berating himself silently for having attempted to touch the other. "Only, I heard you tossing up in there and-"

Draco cut him off, his mouth curled into a familiar sneer as he replied. "What business is it of yours Potter? If you must know, the sight of that rats nest masquerading as your hair was so off putting that seeing it all lunch made me feel rather ill." With those words, he spun about and stalked off again, shooting only one withering glare over his shoulder at the world's Golden Boy.

Harry, for his part, only gaped dumbly after the retreating body. He had not been subjected to Malfoy's wicked tongue in quite a while, and suddenly finding himself on the receiving end of one of the famed Malfoy verbal attacks left him feeling distinctly hurt. He had forgotten how rude the other boy could be when he wanted.

Frowning, he gathered himself together, chastising himself for getting upset over such a petty thing. If Malfoy wanted to revert to childish taunting, fine. It was almost certainly a defence mechanism, a way for the pureblood to deal with him after what Harry had done. And didn't that thought cause that ever present guilt to attack him again?

The bell chose that moment to ring, reminding Harry that he did have class which he was now late for. Swearing colourfully under his breath, he ran down the hallway, arriving at the Transfiguration classroom just as Professor Turtletoes was pulling the door shut.

"Ah, Harry," cried the man jovially upon catching sight of him. "Nice of you to join us."

"Sorry Professor," he panted out, passing through the door that the man graciously held open for him and sidling into his seat. "Got a bit delayed."

"Not a problem at all Harry," the man replied genially, making his way to his own seat after shutting the door. The Golden Boy flashed him a smile before looking around quickly, spotting Draco sitting near the back of the room and directing a sneer in his direction. Once more feeling bereft, Harry turned back around just in time to catch Turtletoes' usual opening words.

"Good afternoon class," he greeted them, nodding his head toward the Gryffindors and ignoring the Slytherins.

The class passed by without fuss, the highlight being when Harry gained thirty points for merely answering a question and four Slytherins lost points for not being thorough enough with their explanations. By Turtletoes' standard, this was rather tame, and he appeared to be using the few remaining minutes with his class looking for any reason to grant Gryffindor points or remove some from the serpent house. His chance did not come until the bell sounded when, as they were filing out of the back of the classroom, an unidentified person mistakenly collided with Harry and sent him stumbling forward.

The Gryffindor reached out for whatever he could find to stabilize himself, his grasping hands finding nought but thin air as he found himself tumbling forward, crashing hard into a body and bringing it down under him. A colourful explosion of swears alerted him that he had fallen on Malfoy.

Immediately, their professor was at his side, helping him up and assuring himself that the Golden Boy was okay before turning to the fallen Slytherin. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid such language shall not be tolerated within Hogwarts," he stated snidely, an ugly look directed at the younger blonde. "It will be a detention for you, six o'clock on the dot in my office tonight."

Harry would have found the sight of Draco's jaw dropping inelegantly amusing had it not been directly followed by a venomous glower in his direction. "Potter just mauled me Professor, I hardly think-" Draco's complaint was cut off by the older man holding up his hand, indicating his wish for silence.

"That was simply a mistake Mr. Malfoy, one that had him sprawled on the floor as well, mind you. And yet did Mr. Potter here espouse such vile dialect? I hardly think so. Six 'o clock tonight, and mind you don't make me wait."

Another glower apair followed the command before Draco stalked off, his robes whipping about him in a manner that reminded Harry distinctly of Snape. Turtletoes watched the Slytherin go with a frown before turning back to the Gryffindor by his side, his steely eyes softening considerably. A large hand found its way to scarred boy's shoulder.

"Are you alright my boy? That vile child didn't do anything nasty to you did he?" His eyes glinted in concern behind their squared glasses.

"No sir," Harry replied dutifully, shaking his head. He had long since given up on trying to convince his Professor that Slytherins were anything other than evil little Death Eaters, as all attempts prior either had the man shaking his head sympathetically and giving him pitying glances or commending him for his attempt to integrate such people but assuring him it would never work. Allowing himself to be patted again and warned to watch his back, he smiled wanly at the Professor before hurrying to where Ron lounged against a corridor wall, a smirk firmly in place.

"Nice one mate," crowed the redhead, his hand going up to request a high-five. "Got ferret well and good there. Double whammy that, bashing him over and then sticking him in detention for it." Harry met his high-five weakly, a glass smile fading from his lips as he trailed behind the redhead to Defence Against the Dark Arts, his guilty conscience attacking him again for causing more misfortune to the icy blonde.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Draco was angry. No, scratch that, Draco was livid. As he heaved yet again over the porcelain bowl of the toilet, another wave of rage flowed through him, directed at, surprisingly, Madam Pomfrey. How dare the woman not take him seriously? He had specifically informed her that this pounding in his cranium was the result of a curse, but had she listened? Oh no. Rather, she had treated him like any old student with a headache. He was a Malfoy! He should be listened to! And now, because she treated him like a commoner, he was stuck in the loo spewing up all of that disgustingly common potion she had supplied him with.

Another wave of vomit sputtered out, and with it went the anger, leaving the blonde suddenly drained and exhausted. Sniffling slightly and wiping his eyes, he sat back on his heels as his stomach roiled one last time before settling. As it did, an alarming thought came to him. What if Pomfrey had been the one to curse him? She had had plenty of opportunity, what with him spending the night after that creature had attacked him. No wonder she hadn't treated him properly earlier!

He flushed the toilet robotically and left the stall, making his way over to the sinks. His own face looked back at him from the mirror, gaunt and pale and terrified at the thought that the school nurse wanted him dead. Gods, he couldn't even tell anyone, who would believe him? Groaning again and clutching at his hair as another sharp pain shot through his head, the blonde turned and left the bathroom. He would just have to fight this on his own then. There was no way he was going back to the old bat so that she could make it worse. Dejectedly, he turned right and began making his way to Trasnfiguration.

He really shouldn't have been surprised when he heard Potters voice ringing out behind him, calling his names. After all, hadn't Potter made a career out of poking his infuriatingly invasive nose in Draco's business? Still though, it did come as a shock to him, and it was with no small amount of wariness that Draco turned to face the Gryffindor.

As soon as he saw the familiar bespectacled face, a lump rose in his throat and his body became warm, desire tainted with regret coursing through him and undoing all the progress he had made toward getting over the young hero. Sighing in defeat at his own weakness, he met Potter's eyes and asked him quietly, "What do you want Potter?"

The boy in question stared dumbly at him for a moment before reaching for his face. Unable to help himself, Draco flinched away from the gesture. He would not allow Potter to touch him again, not after what had transpired between them. It was the only way he could retain his sanity.

The Boy Who Lived looked visibly disheartened as he retracted his hand, hiding it behind himself as he instead asked, "Ummm…are you okay? Only, I heard you tossing up in there and-"

Draco felt himself growing cold, a slightly sick feeling taking root in his stomach. Potter had witnessed that? But then, of course he had. Potter was always there for Draco's lowest moments. Feeling vulnerable, the blonde allowed his tried and tested defence to fall into place: the Malfoy mask slid on as if it had never left and he felt his lips curling into the familiar sneer that always comforted him in its assurances of his superiority.

"What business is it of yours Potter?" He drawled, cutting off the rest of the Gryffindor's sentence. "If you must know, the sight of that," he paused here, fixing his eyes critically on the raven mop atop the scarred boys head, and allowed his sneer to widen, "rats nest masquerading as your hair was so off putting that seeing it all lunch made me feel rather ill."

Not waiting for Potter to come up with a retort, the Slytherin prince turned again and made his way back towards his next class, pausing only once to glare at Potter over his shoulder. He made it into Transfiguration with barely a minute to spare, much to the disappointment of the old coot Turtletoes, who gave him a withering glower from his desk but said nothing. Sneering lightly at the git, Draco made his way over to a seat near to the back of the classroom.

The bell rang just as he settled in, and the Professor rose and strode toward the door. Then his snobby voice sounded out, floating to the back of the classroom and making Draco's headache pound in complaint as the teacher spotted Potter and called out to him. Draco scowled at the brunet as he took his seat, making sure the bespectacled boy caught sight of his sneer when he turned around. It really wasn't fair, how Turtletoes treated everyone but the Slytherins. If he had been late, he'd have received detention by now.

Sighing desolately, he tuned back in as the Professor rang out his opening words, signalling the beginning of his lecture for the day.

Class passed by in its usual manner, beginning with a lecture that facilitated fastidious note taking from the Slytherins as they would be penalized for not answering ad verbatim when they were questioned on the content at the end of the lecture. This was easy enough for Draco, who had been brought up with meticulous study habits and could even expound on his answers, having read enough ahead to know the material, but Pansy, Blaise, Millicent, and Daphne each lost ten points, Daphne for forgetting a word that was largely unimportant to the grand scheme of the question anyway.

In standard Potter style, the Slayer of Voldemort procured himself thirty points for a stuttering, half complete answer that only covered part of the question. After Draco had sneered at him for that, they were on to the practical side of things, in which the Slytherins did surprisingly well and the Gryffindors surprisingly poorly, which resulted in no more points being exchanged and a rather despondent professor. Draco let out a small exhale of relief as the ring of the bell sounded through the classroom, releasing the students from the class. He stood with the rest of his housemates, hurrying to make his way out of the unfriendly Gryffindor's classroom.

Suddenly, something slammed into him from behind, knocking him violently to the ground before proceeding to crush him beneath it. His breath fled from his lungs and his head hit the floor hard, causing lights to explode before his eyes. The headache that he already harboured magnified tenfold, pounding at his skull like a thousand _Reducto_'s and causing a fountain of curses to spout from his lips.

Vaguely he was aware of the crushing force being lifted from him as he groaned and clutched at his cranium. A flash of messy hair and deliciously tanned skin told him that it was Potter who had fallen on him, but before he could decide how to feel about that, Turtletoes' agonizingly irritating voice was sounding again. Draco looked up at the professor, his mouth dropping open as he heard what was being said to him. He was being given detention?

Shooting a glare in Potter's direction, he fixed his tone into one of righteous indignation as he said, "Potter just mauled me Professor, I hardly think-"

The elder blond held up his hands, silencing Draco as he rushed to defend Potter. The Slytherin seethed silently. Potter hadn't been the one with his head smashed into the floor. Treating them each to his most venomous glare, the pale boy picked himself up off the floor and stormed out, making his solitary way towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

By the time he made his way into the Transfiguration classroom for his detention that evening, Draco felt very much like crying. His head was aching to the point where he was considering just going back to Pomfrey and allowing her to finish him off and put him out of his misery.

He was greeted with a sneer from the Professor and a gesture to take a seat. Turtletoes paced toward him, pausing above the young blonde to give him a disgusted look. A sheaf of parchment landed roughly on the desk in front of him, causing him to flinch inwardly. Thick hands followed them as the Professor leant over the desk, causing Draco to quail slightly and stare up at him as the Professor glared down at him.

"I, unfortunately, have somewhere to be and cannot supervise you. I want this all done by the time I return at eight, or you will receive even more detention. And I had better not hear of you wandering beyond the boundaries of this classroom. Do you understand me?"

Draco nodded mutely, his wide grey eyes giving the Professor a frightened look that he couldn't seem to get under control, much to his ire. Turtletoes sneered again, his attempt not nearly as effective as Draco's own, then swept out of the classroom. Draco sat there for a moment, mentally berating himself for allowing the Malfoy façade to slip as he had, before pulling the thick stack of parchments toward himself and sneering down at it.

It was a large stack, certainly, and definitely something Turtletoes would do, assign way too much work for the timeframe so that the student in question wouldn't have time to complete it and would be forced into yet another detention. McGonagall had actually forbidden the man from setting more than three detentions in a row with himself for the same student, after a half the Slytherin house had found themselves in detention their entire first week. The work was easy though, and Draco worked fast. He inked his quill and hunkered down, words flowing across the parchment in a perfect calligraphic script.

Merely fifteen minutes had passed when he heard the door creak open again. Draco glanced up cursorily before returning to the fourth piece of parchment, then did a double take as he saw who had entered the classroom.

"Theo?" he asked incredulously, setting down his quill. Theodore Nott smirked at him from across the classroom as he wound his way closer.

"Hey Draco," he said softly, closing in on the blonde. Draco stood up, swallowing nervously as he recalled the incident in the bathroom that morning. He took an imperceptible step back.

"What are you doing here?" He questioned softly, stepping back from the taller boy.

The brunet's smirk softened into a smile as he stepped closer to Draco, causing the blond to edge backwards again. "I heard you got detention," he said softly, "so I came to keep you company." He settled himself in the seat that the Ice Prince had just vacated and spared a cursory glance at the work spread atop the table.

Feeling slightly more relaxed, Draco slid into the seat beside the other Slytherin. The smile gracing the larger mans lips widened as he took in the blonde's apparent acceptance of his company, and Draco offered a weak smile of his own.

"So what happened that Turtletoes foisted a detention on you anyway?" Theodore asked, obviously excited at the prospect of verbally abusing the Head of Gryffindor for whatever folly reasoning he had used this time. Draco immediately launched into a very irritated explanation, fraught with complaints about Potter, that soon had the pair of them badmouthing both of the Gryffindors and the whole lion house in general.

The conversation carried them through the next hour, morphing from general badmouthing to conspiracies against the scarlet house, to reminiscing of actual plots that they had undertaken against Gryffindors.

"-and every time she looked at him her eyes literally grew bigger! By the end of it, they were practically bulging out of her face, you couldn't even see the bridge of her nose. It was so disgusting, you should have seen his face when he saw her! Needless to say, she never pursued a Slytherin again." Draco was doubled over, in stitches at the prank Theo had played against some fourth year Gryffindor girl. Theo laughed along with him, more so at the sight of Draco's own hysterics.

Draco slowly sobered, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. He looked up at Theo, another joke on his lips, and froze. The Slytherin had shifted closer, and was now almost on top of him. Their lips were merely a breath's width apart, the other boy was puffing warm air across his lips. He smelt of Quidditch, rain, and grass, so alike Harry and yet so very very different.

The blonde's breath hitched, and then Theo was coming closer, and he really should pull away because he didn't like the elder Slytherin like that, but he felt so very warm in the boys arms, and Harry hadn't wanted him like this without the influence of alcohol, and it had hurt so much, and then they were snogging and suddenly it was like a dam breaking in Draco and he was kissing Theo like no tomorrow, pouring every bit of frustration and heartache that he had been feeling recently into that kiss.

Theodore let out a moan as slender, pale arms wound around his neck, and his hands came up to cup Draco's bum as he walked the blonde backward and slammed him against Turtletoes' desk. A small part of Draco's mind snickered at the expression that would surely be found on the awful man's face if he were to walk in at that moment. Then the thought was silenced by the feeling of smooth hands working their way into his pants and stroking the skin of his arse and his eyes fluttered shut. A breathy moan escaped his lips and he arched his head back, allowing room for the firm, demanding lips found his throat.

He slipped his hands up the back of the Slytherin's shirt and scratched at the skin he found as he was hoisted off the floor and slid back onto the desk. His legs wrapped around the slim waist in front of him and he found himself frotting shamelessly against the man Theodore growled possessively and suddenly there were hands fumbling at his shirt and then there were no shirts at all and they were touching, touching and then Draco was coming and so was Theo and everything was gone white, and he sunk bonelessly onto the desk and come was cooling on his belly and Theo was licking his neck and humming happily and then suddenly Draco remembered Turtletoes and he was coming back at eight and his eyes flew to the clock and then

"Get off," he gasped, pushing weakly at the broad shoulders over him. The older boy pulled back, his eyes glinting curiously as he looked down at the blonde. "Turtletoes," he mumbled. Understanding registered in the brown eyes, and then the brunet was off him and helping him up off the desk. They tugged on their clothes in record time and Theodore gave the blonde one last kiss before hurrying out the door. Draco quickly made his way back to his chair and settled in, pulling the work toward him just as the door swung open again and Turtletoes walked in.

"Let's see it then," came the hissed words. Draco gulped, looking down at the scant four pages he had completed out of the eighteen that was assigned to him. They disappeared from the desk before him as the Professor snatched them up. A smirk, satisfied and cruel, curled the mans thick lips as he looked down at the incomplete work. "Tsk tsk tsk. Unfinished." A dark laugh sounded out as the man incinerated the papers with a flick of his wand. "I guess I'll be seeing you back here tomorrow then. Six o'clock. Don't be late."

X0X0X0X0X0X

Harry fiddled and twitched all throughout dinner. Draco had left the Great Hall at precisely five-fifty, almost an hour and a half ago now, and it had not escaped the Gryffindor's notice how upset the blonde had appeared. With all his heart, he wanted to go apologise to the gorgeous Slytherin, to explain that he hadn't meant to land him in detention, that this was all just a huge mistake. But Draco wouldn't listen to him, would never even give him the time of day now…would he?

The bespectacled hero gave himself a shake. He was a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake. Courage was his thing! Emboldened by his thoughts, he stood abruptly, causing the people around him to jump.

"Erm…Harry?" Offered Ginny. Harry grinned at them all.

"I've got something to do!" He exclaimed, and half the Hall turned to stare. Not pausing to worry about them, Harry rushed out of the Great Hall and rushed toward the Transfiguration classroom. He didn't know why he was so giddy, but if he had to take a guess, he would say the possibility to see Draco, maybe to talk to him without everything going to heck.

He arrived in the corridor and paused, taking a moment to compose himself before he affixed a crooked smile to his face and made his way easily to the classroom door. It was ajar, light spilling into the hallway along with…moans? Heart suddenly pounding, Harry rushed the last few steps forward and stopped, staring into the room, his skin growing cold at the sight that awaited his horrified eyes.

Two boys were in the room, entangled with one another, lips locked in a fierce embrace. Smooth, pale arms wrapped around broad shoulders and hooked at the back of a firm neck, and slender, jean-clad legs wrapped tightly around a slim waist. The light hair glistened beautifully in the flickering torchlight, looking like a halo around the pale face it framed, and Harry only knew _one_ person in the school with hair like that. He felt like he had been kicked in the gut, and his knees wobbled and he stumbled back a few steps, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him, even as shirts came off and they groped each other roughly, groping, groping. Then they were coming, and Harry could clearly see Draco's face as he reached his orgasm, an image he was sure would be ingrained in his mind for the rest of his days.

And then they were falling back onto the desk and the spell was released, and suddenly Harry was running, running, and he couldn't stop because if he stopped he would _think_ and that would mean _remembering_ because he had chose this, he could have had the blonde, hell, he _had_ had the blonde and he had thrown it all away

**So. Chapter 5 down. Harry got some angst time this time around haha. **

**Next Chapter, Draco and Theo fall into a relationship while Harry continues struggling on with Ginny and his attraction to Draco. Signs of Draco's pregnancy start showing, but he still doesn't trust Madam Pomfrey. Angst will probably be around.**

**Stay tuned~**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Word Count: approx 12 750**

**Warnings for this chapter: excessive angst (some of it needless), masturbation, homophobia, slut shaming, bad writing**

**Summary: **After a drunken one-night-stand, Draco is left heartbroken and pregnant. When that also goes wrong, he convinces himself that he's not right for Harry and attempts to move on again. Several years later, however, a terrible incident lands him in St. Mungo's, where Harry finds him. With the blonde pregnant and slipping into depression, can Harry save the man he rejected so many years ago? And will he want to? Drarry. Not Epilogue compliant

**Story Warnings**: explicit sex , slash, gang rape, m!preg, et cetera et cetera.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters or creatures. I do not own the setting, locations, and world used in this story. I own only the plot. This is a work of fiction. It is not based on actual events. I do not condone rape of any sort. There is no monetary compensation being achieved from this work. Views expressed by the characters are not necessarily shared by myself.

**! Apparently there is a bottom!Draco community here of FF, Dragon's Lair, that found this story thank youuu **

**I honestly didn't even know FF had communities, this is awesome I'm going to follow it everyone should follow it *3* !**

**This is terribly late I know, I'm sorry ;_; . I actually went on hiatus from the fandom for a while, I was neither reading nor writing any Drarry for several months. I had a bit of writer's block when I came back but I figured I'd just push through it. If the writing is awkward because of that, I'm sorry ^^; . And once again, characterization, emotions and reactions might be way off, I just suck at life so…Once again, this chapter was supposed to be much much much longer but I figured I had made you all wait enough and this seemed like it could end here so I did it. It's a bit short, but I figured better get it up now… This story has officially been bumped to 32 Chapters.**

**This chapter seems to be a bit pointless (and in most ways it is), I guess there's just a bit of not-entirely-necessary plot development going on … **

**-Contains Chapter Spoilers-**

**I know JKR has said that the Wizarding World in general is not as homophobic as the Muggle World, and I know that the Weasley's would probably be very accepting of homosexuality, but I elected to ignore that since homophobic Ron and Ginny would help Harry feel more angst. **

**And I swear I'm not making Theo be an ass just to give Draco more angst, he has a reason I swear it (even if it's not necessarily a very good reason)**

**Also please be aware that Draco considering himself a slut/whore etc. and Theo's calling him thusly are simply those characters expressing their own opinions due to their own beliefs. I do not agree with their views on that matter, and do not consider having sex, public sex, or many variations thereof 'slutty' or a bad thing.**

**-End of Spoilers -**

**Again, sorry for any mistakes, this is unbeta'd …just point them out to me and I'll fix yes? **

**Also to the lovely reviewers…Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to leave me a review. Love to you all. And a shout out to those who reviewed after Chapter 5 was posted. Thank you **_**borderline crazy, 3Angels1Mommy, violetkitty02, blackcurrent, ladious18, Rhea Bleu, AnimatedCharacter, RocklifeDude, AvisAmadea, Belldandy55555, rii96, SanValentino, kitty tokyo uzamaki, MDarKspIrIt, Sacred Phoenix of Nephthys, mmleach, BeautifulDesertFoxglove, Daddys little crazy bitch, Mashkai30, KionaRinton, sghazalifard, Gingerchild .**_** I can't reply when people aren't logged in so I shall reply to those here ^^;**

**Lovewillconqrall : **Hehe I'm glad you're enjoying it. Payback is a bitch ;P And it was long overdue for Harry haha.

**Guest : **Sorry for the long wait ^^; BUT IM NOT SORRY THAT I MADE YOU CRY MAHAHA MY EVIL PLAN /kicked

**Guest : **Go Theo indeed. He has his own set of problems though ;P

**Guest : **Sorry I took so long. I'm glad you like it ^^;

**Thank you for reading, Hope you enjoy ~**

**- Flammy**

AoAoAoAoAo

"_And then they were falling back onto the desk and the spell was released, and suddenly Harry was running, running, and he couldn't stop because if he stopped he would think and that would mean remembering because he had chose this, he could have had the blonde, hell, he had had the blonde and he had thrown it all away"_

The morning greeted the great school with a burst of warm sunshine. Birds chirped cheerfully in the trees, their voices mingling into a loud and unsynchronized song. Despite the volume, however, the melodies barely made it into the Gryffindor tower, the height of which had it soaring well above even the most prominent of the noise-makers. It was instead the bright sunshine, inhibited only marginally by the partly closed curtains adorning the windows, which awoke the students within.

Soft noises of waking floated through the dormitory around one Harry Potter, as all the boys but he began to reluctantly drag themselves from the warm comforts of their respective beds. The scraggy haired boy lay, unmoving atop his own perfectly made bed and stared unseeingly straight ahead, as he had been doing for the entirety of the night. Sleep had eluded him, his mind instead plagued with memories of what he had seen in that Transfigurations classroom, leaving him with a frustrating mix of despair and arousal that pushed away any whispers of sleep.

'_Draco has a new boyfriend_'. The thought pounded at the inside of his skull for the umpteenth time, knocking at his eyeballs and burying itself deep into his brain. Draco had a boyfriend. It shouldn't upset him, he knew, since it meant the boy was finally moving on and leaving him be, just as Harry had requested of him. But he couldn't help the heated, angry coil of jealousy that curled in his gut, the one that believed the blonde should belong to none but himself.

Frustration poured through him as his brain and heart argued over what was best, who should be with whom. He should be happy that the pale beauty was moving on and healing, but his heart raged. Deep inside, he wondered if he hadn't been the one to push the Slytherin into his fellow snakes arms, what with his actions in the Hospital Wing the day prior. Could this all be a revenge plot to make the Gryffindor jealous? His mind again brought up the image of Draco's face as the fair boy reached orgasm, and, as an unbidden groan of lust rose from his throat, Harry had to privately admit to himself that it was working.

The boy hero groaned and sunk his head back into his pillow, the erection straining against his pants trapping him in his bed for as long as his roommates still occupied the room. Fruitlessly, he tried to will it away, only to have find his thoughts returning to the topic that had held them so enamoured all night. Finally giving in, he flicked his wand quickly at his curtains to lock them, and then once more to silence them. Deciding that was good enough, he reached down beneath his duvet and slithered a hand into his pants, curling it firmly around his throbbing flesh.

His breathing hitched as he rubbed his hand up and down the heated appendage, a moan spilling unbidden from his lips. His brain sprung to life immediately, gleefully providing him with images to compliment his pleasure, a mixture of fantasies and memories all of which starred one Draco Malfoy. Draco's hand wrapping about his cock, Draco slumbering beautifully in the gentle morning sun, Draco's wicked grey eyes glinting as he moved to go down on Harry, a fierce kiss shared in an empty hallway, Draco cumming, his face painted a mask of ecstasy, Draco's hole stretched around Harry's fat cock as the Boy Hero pumped into Draco's pale, perfect arse, Draco nuzzling against him as he fell into the embrace of sleep, Draco favouring him with a slow, sleepy smile. A small part of Harry's brain protested in alarm at the thought of merely a smile being arousing enough to feature in the wanking fantasy, but it was immediately overridden as the boy's body tightened in pleasure before shooting out rope after rope of hot pearly cum.

He slowly came down from his euphoric high, his body still panting in attempt to regain his breath. As it did, a clarity stole over the young brunet. He knew without doubt now that what he felt for Draco ran deeper than lust, although just how far was anyone's guess. But the Gryffindor was not going to leave Ginny, not now, not after all they had gone through, and certainly not after Draco was finally beginning to heal and move forward. So Harry came to the decision that he would watch from afar, enjoying Draco freely in his imagination whilst he went about his day with Ginny at his side. It was not the most noble of solutions, but once he committed himself to it internally, he felt as though a weight had lifted from his shoulders that not even his mental infidelity could return.

Spelling away the evidence of his activities, the boy swept back the curtain just in time to catch the back of Seamus' head vanishing through the doorway that led to the common room. An enormous grin splitting his face, the Golden Boy made his way into the empty bathroom and slipped into a shower, relaxing into the soothing heat. As he soaped himself, Harry even fancied that he could hear birdsong. Today was going to be a marvellous day.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Today was going to be a shitty day, Draco decided, ignoring the rapping of his wand on his unresponsive head. Soft sounds stirred from beyond the curtains, gently informing the listless blonde that his fellow snakes had reared their heads and were now moving to prepare for the day ahead. Distantly it registered to him that he really ought to join them, but he found that he could not muster up the will to remove himself from his bed.

Instead, the petulant blonde buried his face further into his pillow where he had planted it upon slinking into his bed the night prior. He had found himself unable to fall asleep the night before as the weight of what he had done just hours before had slammed into his brain.

He had frotted with Theo last night On Turtletoes' desk. With the door wide open.

Draco grunted, banging his fist on the mattress in protest of his own foolish actions. It had seemed such a wonderful idea at the time, caught in the heat of the moment as he had been. Now it just made him feel dirty and worthless and cheap. For all of his life he had kept an almost prudish level of distance from any of his various interests. Kissing was permitted, and some light patting above the waist and above the clothes, but the Ice Prince of Slytherin had allowed no more than that, wanting to pursue a relationship before he got into anything deeper. But then had come Harry, and Draco's first time was gone in a night of drunken stupidity. Merlin, they hadn't even had a decent conversation first! And now here he was getting off in public with Theodore Nott, whom he wasn't even sure that he cared for all that much!

"Congratulations Draco, you're turning into a trollop," he groused at himself, words muffling into his pillow. A moment of silence followed, before the voice of one of his roommates floated in through the curtains, complaining about the lack of warmth in the dungeons.

Feeling distinctly displeased that none of the boys in the room had noticed his bad mood and rushed to cheer him up, the blonde sulked his way out of bed and into the bathroom, deliberately avoiding Theodore's bright eyes and inviting smile.

By the time he had readied himself and left the dormitory, Draco was feeling notably better. He was still upset at his own lack of control, but there was little use agonizing over it. Rather, he would talk to Theo today, and inform him that he wanted to take things slowly.

Pansy awaited him in the common room, as perfectly put together as Draco himself and with a gentle smile stretching her lips just for him. Draco returned the expression with his own more reserved and controlled version as she fell into step with him, her smart heels rap-tap-tapping along the stone floor as they made their solitary way toward the Great Hall for a slightly late breakfast. If she saw the lingering discomfort on his face, she kept it to herself.

Breakfast was already in full swing by the time the two eighteen year olds entered the cavernous hall. Draco felt a flash of nerves course through him as he spotted Theodore, chatting easily to Blaise who sat across the table from him. Next to both boys waited an empty spot. Lifting his chin resolutely, the blonde clamped down on his worry and strode over to them, determinedly planting himself on the bench beside his friend…lover…whatever he was. The boy turned to greet him, brown eyes lighting up as he registered Draco's distinctively pale features.

"Morning Draco," Theo chirruped, and, before Draco could complain about his disgustingly chipper mood, leant in and plonked a kiss on Draco's cheek. The blonde froze, a pale pink flush darkening his cheeks as he felt the entire population of the school turn to stare at him. A quick glance about, however, assured him that the only people who seemed to have noticed were Pansy and Blaise, who stared with respective expressions of slightly mad glee and a calmly raised eyebrow. Draco harrumphed gruffly, ignoring the chuckle that emanated from his left as he tucked into the spread before him.

The blonde noticed instantly the moment Harry Potter walked into the Great Hall. The Boy Hero aseemed disgustingly chipper, his verdant eyes immediately seeking out Draco's own pale countenance. Forcing a sneer, the blonde turned his back on him once more and moodily stabbed at his innocent breakfast.

Seeing Harry again had evoked a whole new pack of emotions that Draco had neither forseen nor desired. If Harry only knew how wanton Draco had behaved the evening prior! He would never think of the blonde as anything more than a whore. The Slytherin sighed into his pumpkin juice, privately glad that the Gryffindor was not privy to his misdemeanour with Theodore.

The boy in question at that moment finished his breakfast and chose to lean over, planting a very public kiss on Draco's lips and leering at him before promising to see him later. Draco stared, mortified, as a pink flush worked its way delicately over his features. He didn't need to look around to tell that half the Hall was staring, as Theodore nonchalantly swung his bag over his shoulder and left the table. In front of him, Blaise stared after the other Slytherin boy, eyebrows flirting with his hairline at the obvious claim Theo had just laid. Pansy, on the other hand, looked positively gleeful, an almost manic gleam shining in her eyes that alarmed Draco almost as much as the kiss had.

Quickly, he reeled in his shock and composed himself once more.

"What's got you so chipper?" He groused, glaring at her irritably whilst he absently mashed his breakfast into an ugly goop. The girl's smirk widened alarmingly, but she merely cocked her head to the side and affected an innocent tone of voice as she replied.

"Oh nothing. Only the look on Potter's face." Draco immediately began turning, panic filling him at the disgust that must surely be in Harry's eyes, but Pansy stopped him with a hand on his arm and a loud tutting sound. "You can't _look_," she said, exasperation leaking clearly into her voice. Draco opened his mouth to demand why not, but she stifled the question with a glare before it even left his lips.

Pansy shook her head with a tiny smile, stealing another glance at the table behind him before leaning forward conspiratorially. Draco frowned slightly but tilted his own head toward her, listening as she whispered, "He looks _pissed_! Kissing Theo is a genius move Draco, he looks like he wants to tear Hogwarts apart. Well, he also looks like he wants to come over here and stake a claim on you but…"

Draco's head whipped around at those last words, his gaze focussing on Potter before he registered that it had decided to do so. The Gryffindor's own glare met his, and Draco's mouth went dry at the heated _rage_ that he saw there. A small meeping sound that he would never admit to sounded from his mouth as he turned back around to face a scowling Pansy, a pink flush working its way up his cheek.

"Oh Merlin, he's going to kill me," he whimpered, wringing his hands slightly before catching himself and folding them into his lap. Pansy huffed and rolled her eyes at his dramatics before shaking her head at him.

"No he's not," she rebutted, ignoring his whine and leaning back in her seat, smirking again. "So… you and Theo huh? When did that happen?"

Draco blushed all over again as the words brought up memories of Turtletoe's classroom, and he squeaked slightly before regaining control of himself and glaring at his best friend. "I'm sure it's none of your business," he replied snootily, causing her to chuckle dryly. She did drop it, however, and they spend the remainder of breakfast gossiping over Susan Bones' _awful_ hairdo. And if Pansy occasionally glanced across the Hall and smirked, well, that was neither here nor there.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Harry's great mood lasted him all the way down to the Great Hall and well into breakfast. For once, he was active and engaged in the conversations that he took part in, something which seemed to please his friends to no end. With Ginny especially, he was no longer clammed up, jokes and meaningless little flirty comments falling easily from his lips, and if he tried hard enough he could almost forget that she wasn't the one he truly wanted. She looked delighted every time he complimented her, so he pushed any errant thoughts aside and instead just enjoyed the company of his friends.

Until he made the mistake of looking up. Being himself, of course, his eyes would have to find the Slytherin table just in time to take in the sight of Theodore Nott pressing a very purposeful kiss to his Draco's lips. Suddenly, just like that, all of his resolve to enjoy Draco from afar flew out of his head, his genial mood swiftly replaced by a blinding rage and jealousy that had him glaring before he could register that he was doing so. His glare followed Nott as the Slytherin left the Hall, then snapped back to Draco who appeared to be acting as though nothing was wrong as he chatted with Parkinson. Beside him, Ron made a loud retching sound as he dropped his fork with a clatter.

"Should have guessed that the ferret would be a poofter!" He complained disgustedly, looking at Harry and Hermione for confirmation. While Ginny emphatically agreed with her brother, Harry's glare deepened and he had to visibly restrain himself from turning it on the pair of them. He could feel a faint sense of shame rising within him in response to their words, one that reminded him forcefully of how much he would love to have been in Theodore's place.

At that moment, Draco's head swivelled around, his wide-eyed silver gaze meeting the Gryffindor's own. The blonde's cheeks pinked and his mouth opened slightly in what appeared to be a silent 'eep' before he quickly turned back to face a scowling Parkinson.

'_He doesn't even want to look at me'_ Harry thought despondently, dropping his gaze to the empty plate in front of him. Vaguely, as if from a distance, he registered the sound of Hermione thoroughly chewing out Ron and Ginny for their expressed homophobia, and it absently occurred to him that she would stick by his side should he ever profess an attraction for men. The thought was not very comforting, however, as the only man that he had ever held an interest in happened to hate his very guts.

Thankfully, Potions first thing was difficult enough to distract Harry from his musings. Slughorn had them redoing their disastrous lesson from Monday, and appeared to have taken to hovering over Harry and Ron's table and watching Ron like a hawk. Hermione, too, kept shooting the pair of them mistrustful looks, obviously expecting another explosive error. None of this made Harry feel any better about his own potion making attempt and he found himself second-and-third guessing himself , which resulted in him waiting too long before dropping in his next ingredient and causing his potion to thicken into a disgusting black glop that earned him a long suffering look from Slughorn.

The man had seemed absolutely baffled by Harry's sudden ineptitude in potions, as compared to his sixth year. Harry had never felt the need to explain it, and Slughorn had eventually turned a blind eye, always passing Harry anyway on his assignments. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he could simply stop doing assignments and still pass most of his classes on the grounds that he had defeated Lord Voldemort. Normally that slightly annoyed him, but it was certainly a blessing in Potions. At least with Slughorn he only got an 'Acceptable'; everything that Turtletoes had given him back had been graded with an 'Outstanding', regardless of whether the work was correct or not.

Beside him, Ron's cauldron made a loud burping sound and started spitting up green bubbles. As Slughorn cried out in alarm and the classes attention snapped to the redhead, Harry took the chance to look around. Hermione's potion, as always, looked to be going perfectly. Hers was the only one in the room that looked the exact shade that it should be at this stage, and Harry allowed himself a momentary flash of pride on her behalf before glancing around for Draco.

The blonde was seated three rows away and about four seats back, busily slaving over his cauldron and…surrounded by ingredients that had nothing to do with their potion. Harry frowned in confusion, arching back as he attempted to peer into Draco's cauldron. He managed to catch sight of a pleasant-looking shimmery pale-purple liquid before he leant too far back and his chair tipped over, sending him crashing to the floor.

Immediately Slughorn was at his side, his hands fluttering as he fussed over the Golden Boy. "Dear me, dear me," he mumbled to himself, helping Harry to his feet. "Are you quite all right Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded numbly, flushing weakly under the gazes of the entire class. He could feel the weight of one gaze in particular upon his back, and he burned with humiliation. Beside him, Slughorn was questioning whether he had inhaled the fumes of Ron's potion and was thus feeling nauseous. Waving the man off with an assurance that he had merely misbalanced, he reseated himself, opened his book, and furiously began looking for ways to save his potion, letting the work distract from his shame.

X0X0X0X0X0X

By the time Potions rolled around, Draco was in a much better mood again. Talking to Pansy tended to do that for him, though, and Draco found himself smiling appreciatively at his friend and slinging his arm around her shoulders as the pair of them headed down the stone steps toward the dungeons. Blaise and Theodore met them at the door to the Potions classroom, Blaise giving Pansy's hand a squeeze while Theo forwent all subtlety and bestowed a quick kiss upon Draco.

Before Draco could respond, Slughorn appeared in the suddenly opened doorway of the classroom, and the blonde found himself being herded into the classroom by his friends. They made their way to their regular table at the back of the classroom, Pansy quickly pushing Blaise to the end of the table and taking her place right beside him. Draco blinked at this change of their usual order, before recognizing that she was forcing him and Theo to sit together. Biting back a sigh at her behaviour, he dropped himself into the chair beside her and watched at Theodore settled in beside him, sparing Draco a distracted smile as he pulled his book out.

Draco ignored him, though, because at that moment the Golden Trio meandered in, Harry looking deliciously rumpled and confused as he tagged along after his companions. The hero didn't spare him a glance, though, because at that moment Slughorn closed the door with a loud bang that caused them all to jump. The rotund professor chuckled out an insincere apology as he made his way to the front of the room, where he peered around at them to make sure they were all seated and set up. Once satisfied, he clapped his hands together.

"Due to the unfortunate accident last class, we are going to be doing a repeat of that lesson. The instructions," he waved his wand, "are on the board. You may begin."

Draco immediately stuck his hand up in the air, and Slughorn came tottering over. Keeping his voice low, the younger Slytherin spoke, "Professor, since I completed my potion last class…"

"Ah yes." Slughorn interrupted, waving his hands dismissively. "Well the choice is really yours Mr. Malfoy. You may work ahead, of course, or work on any personal projects. Nothing dangerous or illegal, mind you."

Draco nodded, ignoring the possible 'Death Eater' implications in favour of believing that Slughorn was simply doing his job as a teacher and informing a student of the rules. "Thank you Professor," he replied sincerely, and Slughorn beamed at him once before ruffling his hair and sweeping off to go and stand over the Golden Table. Draco was torn between sniggering at the apparent baby-sitting treatment Potter and his lackeys were receiving and being indignant at having his hair messed up. He wound up settling for the latter when he caught sight of Pansy giggling at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Shut up Pans," he grouched, which of course only caused her to giggle more. Rolling his eyes at her childishness, the blonde got up and made his way over to the supplies cupboard where Theo was already busy collecting ingredients for the four of them. The brunets back was turned to Draco, and the Malfoy-heir hesitated a moment in the doorway, unsure how to react to this situation. On one hand, Theodore was now his boyfriend -right? So he should probably greet him with a kiss. On the other, he really needed to have that talk with the boy about this new thing between them and about taking it slow. He should really get on that whilst he was alone with the other boy.

Draco didn't really feel like holding that conversation in the middle of class in a semi-public storeroom, however, and the other Slytherin probably wouldn't appreciate it very much, as Theo tended to take his grades and education fairly seriously. That was to be a conversation for the dorms then. Instead, the blonde found himself stepping forward and embracing his probably-boyfriend from behind. He had never really had a boyfriend, and so didn't know what he was doing, but he figured this was okay. A moment later, his thoughts were confirmed when Theodore greeted him in a warm voice.

"Hey Dray," the other boy said, arching his head back to give the blonde a quick kiss on the lips. "Did we need the legs or tongue of a salamander for this one?"

"Tongue," Draco answered absently, still marvelling at the easy way that Theodore acted around him. This whole boyfriend thing seemed to come so naturally to the other boy, while Draco was basically stumbling in the dark. "I don't need any though," he added suddenly, noticing the Slytherin picking out four tongues from the jar. His friend shot him a confused look, and he took the opportunity to brag with a smirk as he informed the other that he had finished his potion last class. Theodore smiled adoringly at that.

"Trust you Draco," he said, accompanying his words with yet another kiss, "you always were exceptionally gifted at Potions." With one last parting peck, the elder Slytherin then slipped out of the store room with ingredients for himself, Pansy, and Blaise, leaving Draco preening.

He had been intending to try tackling next lesson's potion, but now that his talents had been praised and his ego boosted, he felt like trying something decidedly more difficult. He glanced around the storeroom, chewing his lip slightly in thought. He had always had several options for what to be when he grew up, and an expert potions master had always been near the top of his list. Now that anti-Death Eater - and particularly anti-Malfoy - sentiments were so high, he knew it was now one of the few fields where he could still hope to get a job, if simply because potions masters were generally their own bosses.

The blonde had always dreamt big, though, and it would never be enough to just expertly make the potions. No, he wanted to be remembered, he wanted to create and discover and further the art of potions making. It had always been a dream that he was holding out on until he graduated - there was little time for attempting serious research in school what with all the classes and homework to attend to. But now…it wouldn't hurt to start something in his spare time. He always had a good ten or so minutes more than the rest of the class every day anyway, what with the shortcuts Severus had taught him. Not enough to get anything groundbreaking done, certainly, but enough to start building up his knowledge base.

Decision made, the Slytherin gathered several ingredients from the shelves, most of them the contents of a particular skincare potion that his mother loved, and some that he thought might be good for alterations. He was careful in his selections though, making sure to only grab things that would work well with one another. Explosive experiments, while fun and highly interesting, were not conductive to a school environment.

By the time he had made it out of the ingredients cupboard with all of his chosen objects, the rest of the class had already gotten to work. All around him potions simmered, varying shades of grey for the time being. So far nothing looked like it was going to blow, so Draco made his way over to his seat and slipped in beside his probably-boyfriend, who greeted him with a distracted smile. Returning the smile shyly, the blonde arranged his ingredients out in front of him and glanced around for Slughorn. Technically, the man had told him to do whatever he wanted to, but the Ice Prince doubted that that had included attempting an experimental blend in the midst of a classroom full of schoolchildren.

The old man was still hovering over Weasel's cauldron, fortunately. Draco took a moment to gloat inwardly at the redhead's needing to be watched through what was a fairly simple potion for the NEWT years, and then began to prepare his ingredients, making meticulous notes on the way each of them were cut, sliced, or squashed. The potion of choice was quick and simple to make, so he reasoned that he'd be able to do several of them today, and at least one every Potions class - and he fully intended to thoroughly investigate as many different methods as he could for these ingredients. It was tedious work, but the blonde found it interesting and he had no doubt that the knowledge it imparted would come in endlessly useful later.

Ten minutes later the potion was complete. His first mix through was exactly the way it was written in his mother's recipe book - and if he had made copies of that book, it was neither here nor there; a Malfoy needed to have great skin, after all. He had even bypassed some of his go-to shortcuts that Severus had shown him. The result was a pretty purple liquid that shimmered lightly in the semi-gloom of the dungeon classroom. Draco stared at it, contemplating.

He would need a test subject. Although he had no problems putting this particular potion on his own skin, as he knew it was made perfectly, there was no telling what might happen as he started altering ingredients. Nothing terribly life threatening, he hoped, but he didn't know if he wanted it touching his perfect body. Maybe he could bribe one of the younger kids to do it. Possibly one of the few Muggleborns who had made into Slytherin - they were generally made pariahs by the other Slytherins since every other house in the school lauded them while hating on the rest of the house. And while being loved by the majority of the school was all well and good, it didn't make it any easier for them within their house where they were supposed to relax, unwind, and socialize. A good word from the Slytherin Prince would certainly help their school lives become easier. Draco indulged in a slight smirk. That was what he would do then. He just needed something else to test it on first to ensure that it was not poisonous or acidic. That shouldn't be too hard though, he could just-

His thoughts were cut off by a cry of alarm that emanated from their teacher. Worriedly, Draco snapped his gaze in the mans direction, only to see that Weasel was being foolish again. Slughorn seemed on top of it this time, so Draco absently returned to his potion, pulling more ingredients toward him and beginning to prepare them for the next attempt.

Before the young Malfoy could even lift his knife, another distraction came in the form of a loud crash. He looked up again in alarm, and was this time faced with the sight of Potter sprawled on the floor, looking slightly dazed. As he watched, Slughorn hurried over to offer the Golden Boy a hand, fussing over the hero until he was rather unceremoniously waved away. Potter quickly went back to his work, and Draco turned back to his own, frowning in frustration when that delicious sliver of belly that the Gryffindor's shirt had exposed when he had fallen refused to leave his mind. Beside him, Theodore snickered and mocked Potter's clumsiness. Draco felt the beginnings of a headache coming on.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Herbology, Harry decided, was completely unfair. By all means, somebody dishevelled, sweaty, and covered with dirt should be repulsive - shouldn't they? But that was not the case at all. Harry spared another glare at his blonde obsession. Really, the boy had no right to look as good as he did plastered with mud. The brown muck certainly wasn't doing anything for anyone else's pageant dreams. Although Ron seemed to think it looked quite fetching on Hermione, if the googly eyes he was making at here were any indication. Hermione, for her part, seemed too interested in getting the assignment done to notice. Sometimes she and Draco were scarily similar.

The blonde certainly wasn't noticing Harry's stares, nor did he seem aware of the lecherous looks Nott seemed to be shooting his way. Harry noticed them though, and he was not amused. Really, why did Draco have to shack up with a pervert like Nott anyway? There were a ton of other boys out there who would be a better match for the gorgeous blonde. Like himself. '_Except,' _a voice reminded him morosely, '_you were terrible to him, weren't you?'_

'_Shut up,' _he told himself, willing away the ever-present well of guilt that tried to rise up. If circumstances had been different, he'd have been great for Draco. He was sure of it. Not like Nott, who only seemed to want to get into Draco's pants, if his - '_did he just smack Draco's ass?' _

"Harry!" Came the female member of the Golden Trio's incredulous tones. Harry looked at her questioningly, only to find her staring at his right fist. Confused, the Golden Boy looked down and then groaned. He had apparently squeezed too hard in his rage and killed the plant he was supposed to have been repotting. Beside him, Ron sniggered unhelpfully.

Professor Sprout, summoned no doubt by Hermione's shrill tones, wasted no time in making her way over to the Trio. She let out a harassed sound at the sight of one of her prized specimens dangling dead from the Golden Boy's hand, and hurriedly took it from him to begin desperately searching for some sign of life. "I think you had best dismiss yourself early Mr. Potter," she told him sharply, upon finding that it was, in fact, dead. "Perhaps go and take an early shower and get in a nap? I dare say you've possibly been over working yourself. Need all your wits about you when dealing with these buggers!"

Harry gulped at the unspoken irritation in her voice. Of course, Professor Sprout would never go so far as to actually berate the newly dubbed Slayer of Voldemort, but the coldness in her tone said more than her overly-polite words could. Nodding shamefully and trying to express how sorry he was through his voice, he let out a "Thank you Professor," before quickly hightailing it out of the greenhouses.

With nothing better to do, Harry decided to make his way down to the kitchens for an early lunch. He was greeted enthusiastically by the house-elves, but the moment he stepped foot in the room the scarred boy was hit with memories of Dobby greeting him with that very same zest. How happy the elf had been here. The Golden Boy found himself swallowing down sudden tears, and he wound up leaving with little more than a stuffed bun clutched in his hands. Disconsolately, he settled himself into a window alcove and began nibbling on his food, gazing out at the breezy grounds.

As had become the norm for him these days, once Harry settled down he found his mind turning to images of the Slytherin who had him so besot. Groaning as always at the intrusion of those thoughts on his moment of peace, Harry leant his head back onto the cool brick wall and stared dully in the direction of the Greenhouses where he knew the blonde to be. He could just picture him in his minds eye, covered in dirt and grumpy, with that cute little smear right under his left eye that Harry longed to swipe away…

He groaned again as he felt himself growing hard through his trousers. Fruitlessly, he tried to banish thoughts of Draco and instead call up a disgusting image - perhaps McGonagall in her knickers? - but his mind simply conjured up a visual of Draco wearing lacy panties instead and he felt a jolt in his stomach as his dick grew harder still. Harry fervently thanked Merlin that everybody was currently in classes and thus there was no one present to witness his current state.

Giving up on banishing his boner, the scruffy hero quickly made his way to the nearest loo, ensuring its emptiness before spelling the door locked and pulling himself out of his too-tight trousers. Moaning in relief, he gripped his hardened flesh and began beating it, closing his eyes and allowing his mind to replace his hand with Draco's mouth. Merlin, but Draco would look good around his cock. In Harry's mind the Slytherin had no gag reflex, and he smirked dirtily at the Golden Boy before sinking to his knees and deep throating him in one go.

He would look up at him while he was doing it, Harry decided. He could picture those stormy-sterling eyes watching him through those thick blonde lashes, as Draco would moan prettily around Harry's dick while his hands moved up to fondle the brunets balls.

Harry gasped at the mental image, his hips thrusting helplessly as he pumped in and out of the circle of his hand. Little whimpers escaped his lips as he imagined burying his hands in Draco's fair hair, holding the Slytherin in place while he fucked his face and emptied his essence deep into the boys throat. A loud cry escaped the Gryffindor as he was brought back to reality by the orgasm that tore through him. Wave after wave of white, creamy cum spurted from his penis and coated the floor and nearest stall. Sighing in relief, the young man tucked himself back into his pants and sunk to the floor, resting his head on the door that lead out to the corridor as he allowed his body to come back down from the orgasm.

As always, following Draco-themed wank fantasies, Harry was seized by the urge to just go and break it off with Ginny, to claim his icy blonde instead. He groaned and buried his head in his hands, determinedly waiting until he had distanced himself enough from the feeling to trust himself to get up before pushing himself to his feet. A lazy _Scourgify_ in the general direction of the bathroom later, he was stepping out into the drafty hallway, just in time for the bell to ring freedom through the school.

"I'm not going to let you copy my Herbology homework you know," was the first thing Hermione said to him as she primly seated herself beside him. Harry, sensing a lecture coming on, groaned as he helped himself to a large helping of roasted lamb. "It's very irresponsible of you to leave class early. You're never going to learn how to handle these plants if you skip out like that!"

"She kicked me out!" He protested loudly around the tender lamb, cutting Hermione off before she had a chance to build up too much steam. He quickly swallowed his mouthful and added, "You saw that." His friend sniffed loudly and turned to dish out her own food, speaking to her hands now.

"She suggested you leave and lie down. You could have said you were fine. I saw why you actually killed that plant Harry, you were watching Draco and Theodore." Harry felt his fork slipping from his grip, his head flying up to look at Hermione and denials automatically forming in his mouth. Before he could get a word in, however, she continued, looking frustrated now as if this was what had really been bothering her all along.

"Look Harry, just because they're two guys it doesn't make it any worse than, say, Ron and I. They're still people and people are not defined by who they love. Frankly, I'm appalled to think that you would be a homophobe. I had hoped that you of all people would have more sense than that! How can you live with yourself, judging people for what they can't help? Why, it's no better than the Death Eaters!"

At that moment, Ron chose to interrupt with a comment of his own about how Draco had _been_ a Death Eater and therefore deserved such prejudice. Hermione turned her ire to him, fury radiating from her bushy hair, and Ron gulped in terror as he realised what he had gotten himself into. Harry, however, was paying no attention to the way the smug look slipped of the redhead's face. He was too busy breathing a sigh of relief. Hermione had chalked his reaction up to homophobia, rather than the jealousy that had actually been the cause of that particular mess. And while Harry was not entirely pleased to be thought of as a homophobe by his friend, it was by far better than her knowing the truth.

Deciding to just roll with it for now, the bespectacled boy tucked into his lunch, watching as Ron received a verbal beat down from his ferocious girlfriend.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Draco was entirely fed up. He was gross, sweaty and covered in dirt. His hair was in a horrid state of disarray, and he was certain that some mud had weaseled its way up there too. His robes needed a wash, his shoes would have to be polished, and don't even mention his cuticles! And on top of it all, stupid Potter had been glaring at him! It made it very hard to concentrate. His head pounded.

The blonde sighed, having managed to at last wrestle the squirming plant he carried into a patch of moist soil. He watched for a few seconds as it thrashed back and forth, trying to free itself from its muddy prison, before closing his eyes tiredly. What he wouldn't give for a nap.

But there was no rest for the weary, unless one was in History of Magic, so Draco forced himself to move again, reaching for the next plant to be potted. He lifted up the pulsing purple pod and watched dispassionately as it began wriggling in earnest. Really, if they were smart enough to be aware of being touched they should be smart enough to know that they needed nutrient-rich soil to survive. Magical things were exhausting sometimes.

Somebody chose that moment to land a light slap to his rear. Releasing a -perfectly dignified, thank you very much - squawk, the Malfoy heir jumped slightly, dropping his pod back into its bin and spinning around to glare at the culprit. A grinning Theodore Nott winked back at him before leaning in and kissing the blondes nose. Draco gave his maybe-boyfriend his best bitch glare - really, his nose? - which was met with a chuckle. Sticking said nose up in the air Draco harrumphed and turned to resume his gardening.

Once he was again facing his bench, he was met with the odd sight of Professor Sprout fuming after Potter's retreating back He wondered briefly what the Golden Boy could possibly have done to cause such ire to be directed at him, but quickly shrugged it off and returned to his assignment. These pods were incredibly rare and useful in potion making, and Professor Sprout had promised free seedlings of any one plant to the three students who performed the best in the class. Draco had no illusions of beating out Longbottom, and Granger would probably pass him out too, but he figured if he tried he could hit third spot. The goody-goody Gryffindors would probably be diplomatic and ask for a more common plant (although Draco had no doubts about where those mysterious and rare plants that Longbottom kept acquiring came from), but he was a Slytherin for a reason and if he could get just one seedling he'd be set for life.

The pods were soon planted, and the blonde stepped back to view his handiwork with pride. There was soil everywhere, and one of the pots had broken when a particularly wriggly pod had knocked it off the table, but everything was planted and the dirt packed down, so he counted it a success. Feeling accomplished, he sat back on one of the nearby stools and gazed around the class. Around him, students bustled busily, dirt flying and pods wriggling. They really were having an inordinately difficult time with this, considering the pods were basically child's play. In fact, Draco had a sneaking suspicion that Sprout had them repotting the things to save herself the trouble.

Only Longbottom and Granger were done, sitting and chatting quietly about plants on their side of the bench. Pansy, too, was not working, but that was because she seemed to have enlisted Blaise to pot hers as well as his. Draco caught her gaze and rolled his eyes at the self-satisfied smirk on her face. He dearly wondered what she would do should Blaise suddenly decide to grow a spine.

Professor Sprout chose that moment to walk over to their side of the Greenhouse, sparing a moment to berate Pansy and order her to do her own work, before catching sight of Draco's planted pods and heading over to inspect. She gave them a cursory inspection before jotting something down and giving him a pleased smile. "Excellent work Mister Malfoy," she told him as she passed. Draco beamed with pleasure. Professor Sprout, surprisingly enough, had turned into one of his favourite Professors. Ever the Hufflepuff, she favoured those who worked hard, and held no grudges. She neither picked on him, as Turtletoes was wont to do, or fell over herself praising him, the way Slughorn would. He often felt most relaxed in her classes, and looked forward to them despite the horrid inevitability of leaving with mud covering his clothing.

Today, though, the relaxing atmosphere was slightly ruined for him by the constant and blatant flirting of one Theodore Nott. Normally Draco did not mind attention - welcomed it even. But his mood was tampered by the thought of the upcoming talk he had to have with Theo. He didn't know why he was nervous really. It was a perfectly acceptable request, to take a relationship slowly. He just felt like he would be disappointing his new probably-boyfriend by not wanting to do the dirty with him. Especially after what they had already done on Turtletoes' desk. How could he say he wanted to keep to kissing after that? His head throbbed dully.

Thoughts like these sat with him for the remainder of the Herbology lesson, and in chewing over them he failed to notice any more of Theodore's leers. The anxious feeling had not abated in the slightest, instead growing in him until he was little more than a trembling wreck of nerves. The moment the bell rang he darted up out of his seat, nearly knocking over his plants in his haste to get over to where Theo was packing his bag. The brunet, upon noticing the lithe blonde, straightened with a warm smile.

"Hey Dray," he greeted, dropping a sweet kiss on Draco's lips. Draco managed to return the greeting, although it was a close thing as he had worked himself up into such a nervous fit that he very nearly choked instead. If the other Slytherin noticed his behaviour he didn't comment, instead giving an easy smile as he slung his bag over his shoulder. "You coming for lunch?" He asked, amused, when Draco didn't follow his couple of steps toward the door. The blonde jumped a little and stared blankly at Theo, scrambling inwardly for what he needed to say.

"Um… actually," he started, wincing slightly at the way his voice squeaked. Damn his nerves. Steeling himself, he started again, determinedly ignoring the bemused look being shot his way. "I actually had something I needed to …" _talk to you about _"get done." Damn it. Why wasn't his mouth listening to his brain. It couldn't be nerves. He had banished those, and, as a Malfoy, once his nerves were banished they were gone for good.

"Oh? And what's that?" Theo humoured him, still wearing an indulgent smile that made Draco want to slap him just a little bit. He crossed his arms and scowled at the other boy, causing the grin to widen further. Irritably giving it up as a lost cause, he dropped his glare and decided to just go ahead with this. Maybe a stern 'we need to talk' would wipe away that smirk.

"I need to -" he began, only to be cut off as Pansy shoved her way over, linking her arms with Draco's.

"Drakey-poo, what's taking so long?" She wheedled, and Draco groaned inwardly at the interruption. Blaise walked up behind Pansy, wearing an despondent look that suggested that he had probably wanted to enjoy what little alone time with Pansy he had been able to get. Draco personally wished that they had indulged and given him time to work through his nerves and talk to his probably-boyfriend, who was currently turning his smirk to Pansy.

"Drakey-poo has something he needed to do," he informed her, using a tone that suggested once again that he was humouring a over excitable child. Draco's glare returned unbidden.

"What's that Draco?" Pansy asked, looking up at him curiously. Draco groaned inwardly again. He was not going to request a talk now in front of Pansy and Blaise. Because as much as he loved the girl, she was a horrid snoop who loved gossip far more than was healthy, and there would be no way that she would stop badgering him until he caved and told her what he had talked to his probably-boyfriend about. And there was no way he was ever telling her that, especially since it would mean admitting to getting off on Turtletoes' desk. Draco could feel his ears burning with mortification at the mere memory of that particular event.

"…I have to… shower," he fibbed. _Well, not really a fib_, he decided with a grimace, looking down at the mud on his clothes. He could feel it clinging to his face as well. Blaise mentioned a Cleaning Charm, which drew him a glare from Pansy and Draco while Theodore just looked more maddeningly amused than ever. Draco didn't bother to explain to the darker Slytherin why exactly Cleaning Charms were never to be used on him - really they were horrid for the hair and skin - instead leaving that to Pansy as he stuck his nose in the air and traipsed his way back to the school.

He had barely left the Greenhouses, however, when something tackled him from behind and sent him sprawling, pinning him down with its weight. He bit down the rising panic that the war had left as a response to these kinds of attacks and closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe for a minute. His father had never had any problems after the war - no panic attacks, no flashbacks. Draco couldn't afford to be weak like this. He could almost hear his father sneering at him in his head.

Once he had calmed himself down enough that he was sure he wouldn't lash out, he turned to look who had grabbed him. It was Theodore. Of course. Mentally rolling his eyes, the blonde took a minute to ensure that his voice would come out firm instead of shaky before glaring at the other boy. "I'd appreciate it very much if you refrain from doing that in the future," he informed him snootily. Theo just smirked and nuzzled his face into Draco's.

"Can't I frolic about in the grass with my boyfriend?" He asked innocently, mouthing along Draco's neck. So they were boyfriends then. That was good to know. He groaned as that mouth found a sensitive spot to nibble at, and his head fell back without his permission. Theo bit and sucked enthusiastically at the spot, and Draco just knew that he was going to leave a mark. He couldn't be bothered about that though, not when he was too busy being caught between sensation and disgust at the fact that this was happening _on the ground_.

That disgust eventually won out, and he shoved Theo off brusquely. The other boy didn't seem to take to kindly to being sent sprawling, and he shot Draco a glare of his own.

"What was that about?" He asked snappishly, bringing up a hand to wipe away some stray grass from his cloak. Draco scowled right back at him as he got to his feet, making a point of brushing the excess grass and dirt off of his robes.

"I don't know what boorish imbecile raised you, but there is _no way_ that we are making out in the mud," he declared loftily. Theodore didn't seem worried by the slight to his family, or whoever else it may have been that had been responsible for raising him. Instead he threw his hands up in frustration as he stared at his blonde boyfriend.

"Draco, for Merlin's sake, you were going to have a shower anyway! It's romantic!" He protested loudly. "It's _disgusting_" Draco corrected him, turning away and sticking his nose up in the air. Behind him, he heard the other Slytherin let out an irritated huff and he felt a worm of worry squirming in his chest. If the boy was reacting thusly to something as simple as this… who knew how he would react when Draco told him that they were to be doing little more than making out, and certainly no getting handsy.

'_No Draco, you're being foolish,'_ he told himself sternly. _'This is not just about you being afraid of some dirt. Theo will understand. All you need to do is tell him' _Determinedly, he turned to face the boy in question. He couldn't quell the wave of nervousness, though, and as he watched the other Slytherin scowling at the grass, he decided that perhaps right now wasn't the best time to tell him. Best wait for that black mood to lighten some. Feeling slightly more confidant, he drawled carelessly at the brunet, "I'm going to shower now. Enjoy your lunch. I'll see you in the oaf's class."

X0X0X0X0X0X

Draco hadn't turned up for lunch. Neither had that stupid ugly Slytherin that he was smacking faces with, for that matter. Harry glared at his pudding as he shoved it around his plate, ignoring Hermione and Ron's continued bantering beside him. Instead, his mind conjured up images of what the pair of them were probably doing right this minute.

His fork clattered to the floor. Hermione paused mid-argument to stare at him, while Ron forgot about the forkful of pudding he had been about to eat in favour of asking if he was all right. He grunted out that he was fine and pushed his pudding away, standing up to make an early start to Care of Magical Creatures. Hermione made to follow, but he told her it was okay, he just needed some time to himself, and then quickly left before she decided to follow him anyway.

He made his way down the grounds and around Hagrid's hut, seating himself in the pumpkin patch beside an exceptionally large pumpkin. He could hear the half-giant within his home, whistling to himself as he prepared whatever lesson he had cooked up for them today. Harry didn't call a greeting, however, truly wanting time to himself so that he could just clear his mind and breathe for a moment.

His mind refused to still, however, instead choosing to call up graphic visuals of what it thought Draco and that arse-brained Slytherin were doing. He grit his teeth in frustration and clenched his eyes shut, trying to banish them. Of course, they refused to go and, to his horror, he found himself stirring with interest. Mortified at the thought that he'd be getting hard at the thought of some other boy fucking his Slytherin, he shook his head vigorously to clear the image away. It vanished momentarily, only to be replaced by a memory of Draco's face as he came on Turtletoes' desk, and Harry groaned roughly as his dick insistently hardened.

Giving in, he slipped his hand in his pants and furiously jerked himself off, not caring about the slight pain that his rough handling caused. It took only a few firm twists and strokes before he arched back, biting the back of his free hand to silence himself as he hit his peak, come spurting in waves from his aching cock. Growling in frustration, he tucked himself away brusquely and cast a quick cleaning charm before burying his face in his knees and sobbing.

This was not fair. He was supposed to be okay with this, was supposed to accept his attraction for Draco with no more of this ridiculous jealousy eating him alive. An irrational surge of anger blossomed up within him, drifting aimlessly before turning its ire to Draco. How could the blonde move on to Nott so quickly? Had Harry meant nothing to him? Just another notch on his bedpost.

Even as the thoughts hit him, he dismissed them as ridiculous. Memories of that tearful confession in the hospital room rose up in his mind and he sighed. There was no way that Draco had used him as a one night stand. If anything, Harry had done that to Draco. Groaning yet again, the boy hero again banished that line of thought. What he had done was in the past, and now he needed to step aside and let the young Malfoy heir heal. And if that healing had to happen with Theodore Nott, then Harry was just going to have to learn to accept it.

Casting the topic from his mind as best he could, the boy hero rose and made his way around the little hut, arriving at the front just as Hagrid emerged carrying a large wooden crate.

"All righ' there Harry?" The half-giant greeted cheerfully. Harry responded to the affirmative, ignoring the little twist that occurred in his gut as he caught sight of a particular band of Slytherins making their way down to the hut. They were quickly cut from his vision as the rest of the class assembled behind him, Hermione and Ron slipping in beside him and each giving him their own brand of worried looks.

Care of Magical Creatures passed by without much incident. The creatures they were dealing with were a bit more dangerous than the Freet, and Harry would occasionally glance in the blondes direction to make sure that nothing untoward was happening. He only managed to catch intermittent peeks, however, as the Ice Prince was flocked by a larger band of followers than Harry had seen around him all year. And, of course, Nott. Harry glared at them, and, while distracted, managed to walk right into Hannah Abbot and knock her to the ground. Hermione scowled at him for the rest of the class.

She had apparently decided not to talk to him, as he realised the moment class let out. With nary a word in his direction, she scooped up her bag and stalked off, turning only to cut a terse "See you at supper," to Ron. The redhead moved in for a quick peck on the cheek before letting her go, staring after her for a moment before turning a confused expression to Harry.

"What'd you do to get her all in a snit mate?" He asked, sounding partly worried and partly angry. Harry privately chuckled at Ron's unconscious protectiveness of Hermione's feelings before shrugging and muttering something about having no idea. Ron seemed to accept this, although Harry knew that that was because the redhead often found himself in that very situation quite often, and picked up his own bag, following Harry back to the castle.

A little ways ahead of them, Harry caught sight of Draco's blonde head shining under the sun. Cursing himself slightly for his inability to ignore the blonde, Harry found himself examining the Slytherin's slim form through his expertly cut robes. The Malfoy heir appeared to be walking slowly, hanging his head in the manner of one whose head exceptionally hurt. The Golden Boy remembered the headache from the day before and the vomiting that had followed, and found himself once again growing worried.

"You coming Harry?" Ron asked, frowning at his friend who had stopped mid-stride. Harry, startled out of his thoughts, only blinked owlishly at him.

"Huh?" He replied dumbly. Ron's frown deepened as he turned to follow Harry's gaze, scowling when his line of vision caught where Nott's hand had just slung over Draco's shoulders.

"Disgusting, innit?" he complained. Harry cast his gaze back to the Slytherins, visibly tensing at the sight that awaited him. Ron threw him a sympathetic grimace. "Bloody fags shouldn't be allowed near us normal people," the redhead griped, starting up his walk back to the school again. Harry followed without word, his stomach now twisting in entirely different knots as Ron's words pounded again and again in his skull.

X0X0X0X0X0X

It had been as he had walked away from a still-sulking Theodore Nott that Draco's headache finally broke down the final wall holding it back and returned full force. Luckily it didn't crash over him in one wave, but rather washed up steadily until his head was a throbbing mess. Cursing under his breath, the blonde quickly made his way down into the dungeons, hoping that a warm shower might drive away the pain.

'_This is all that bloody Nott's fault,' _he thought uncharitably, a scowl marring his features, _'for Merlin's sake, what bloody tosser goes and tackles his boyfriend to the ground anyway? It's boorish! Absolutely boorish!'_

Feeling decidedly sorry for himself, the blonde let himself into his dorm room and quickly stripped off his clothes. Shuddering slightly at the nippy feeling of the cool air against his skin, he quickly grabbed one of his luxuriously fluffy towels and tugged it around his shoulders as he hurried to the showers.

He was quick in losing the towel and stepping under the warm spray, breathing a sigh of relief as the water beat down on his nude body. He closed his eyes and tipped his head forward, leaning it against the wall and allowing the water to wash over him. As he had hoped, the steady beating did bring him some relief to his headache, and for a good minute he just stood there and relished in it.

The feeling was short-lived, however, as he found out the moment he stepped out of the shower and was assaulted again by the incessant throbbing to his skull. Grumbling under his breath about 'stupid bloody bastards', the blonde quickly reclothed himself in fresh gear and made his way out of the room. A quick _'Tempus'_ told him that he had scant few minutes to pop into the Great Hall and grab something quick for lunch. Weighing the merits, he decided it was rather too much bother and instead steered his feet back outside for their next Care of Magical Creatures Class. Closing his eyes, the Slytherin sent a quick wish to whoever was listening that the class would not require getting dirty. He had just showered after all.

As it turned out, Draco didn't even have to touch the creatures. Likely still on edge about what had happened to him last class, Pansy had managed to recruit the entire Slytherin house to keep him from being harmed, and, in the process, keep him as far away from whatever critter the oaf decided to bring out today as possible. It was all rather quite odd, but as Draco still hadn't managed to rid himself of that nagging headache and was in no mood to deal with dangerous beasts, he found himself appreciating their efforts.

Nott, too, was lingering near, the anxious expression on his face hinting that he had something to say. Draco hoped it was an apology; if the other Slytherin felt like he owed Draco, perhaps he wouldn't get too angry when the blonde suggested they slow things down. He bestowed the brunet a few smiles to show that he wasn't _too _angry - wouldn't want to put him on the defensive - but said scant few words to him, just to keep him on his toes.

Around halfway through the class, Potter caused a minor disruption by knocking over Hannah Abbot. It was only after that that Draco noticed the glares that Potter was sending his way. He wasn't sure why the brunet was angry at him, but it left him unnerved and upset. Perhaps the stupid bespectacled git thought that Draco was looking for a way to sabotage another of that oaf's classes. The blonde's heart sank at the knowledge that Harry would never think any better of him than that.

At that moment, Theo slipped his strong arm around Draco's slim waist, and the blonde allowed himself a small smile at the comfort it brought. Perhaps it didn't matter what Harry thought of him. The other boy was obviously a smarmy git anyhow. No, here he had a perfectly attractive man who clearly was over the moon about him, so what use did he have for an ungainly oaf like Potter anyhow? Smiling slightly at the shifted perspective, Draco leant against Theodore's sturdy shoulder and wound his own arm around the other boy's firm body.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Harry was silent and brooding at suppertime, ignoring both Ron's attempts at conversation and Ginny's flirty pestering until the pair of them eventually gave up with matching groans of defeat and began a conversation with each other. The boy hero tuned them out, instead focussing his energy on glowering at his plate as he pushed his peas around it with his fork, mashing them a little more each pass until they resembled green mush.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Hermione was watching him sharply, and appeared to be waffling between continuing to be angry at him and asking him what was wrong. He found himself sincerely hoping that she chose to remain angry. It would be a hell of a thing to have to explain that he was upset that Ron was a homophobic bastard, and that no, he himself was not actually one as well but was secretly pining after their enemy of eight years. Yeah, that would go over well. Harry stabbed violently at his peas. Beside him Ginny tittered, and the scarred boy mentally rolled his eyes. Not to mention that particular complication. No matter what, Hermione would be on Ginny's side. That was the sort of thing girls did.

Groaning out loud and giving up all pretences at eating, Harry shoved his plate aside and buried his head in his hands. Vaguely, he heard concerned voices asking if he was okay, but he quickly waved them off, claiming a headache, scowling at the table when the mention of headaches reminded him of Draco and how the blonde had been suffering that malady.

He struggled internally for all of two seconds before grudgingly admitting inevitable defeat to his desire to check on the blonde and lifting his emerald gaze. A quick scan of the Slytherin table, however, revealed that Draco was not in attendance. Again. And, once more, neither was Theodore Nott. Harry shook his head angrily to clear away those mental images that were already beginning to form again. Beside him, Ginny once again expressed her concern.

"I'm fine Gin," he repeated tiredly, casting her a wan smile, "just got a nasty headache. I think I'm gonna go up early, get a bit of a lay down." He rose from his seat, responding in kind to the chorus of 'take care's that followed him, before making his solitary way out of the Great Hall.

Before he could even make it to the stairs, however, he heard footsteps pattering behind him and a feminine voice calling out his name. Praying to every wizard to ever grace a Chocolate Frog card that it was not Hermione here to badger him, the boy hero turned.

Ginny Weasley rushed up to him with a wide smile.

"'Lo Ginny," he greeted, a slight confusion colouring his tone. The girl smiled sunnily at him before leaning up to press a tender kiss to his lips.

"Sneaky Harry. Feigning a headache to get us some alone time," she chattered, taking his hands and beaming at him.

"No I-" Harry began, fully intending to cut her off. He stopped, however, at seeing her expression falter. Damn. Proper boyfriend. Right. Well, this would take Draco off his mind anyhow. Faking a smile, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into a swooning kiss.

"Right you are," he breathed against her lips, watching as her eyes widened with excitement. He pressed another sweet kiss to her lips _-not as soft as Draco's- _before dropping one of her hands and leading her up the stairs and toward the Gryffindor tower.

As they neared the common room, Harry caught sight of one Theodore Nott hurrying by, heading toward what was undoubtedly the Owlery. The thought that he was probably meeting Draco there for a late night rendezvous flitted across the Golden Boy's mind, and he gripped Ginny's hand a little more firmly. Yes, he would need to distract himself tonight.

X0X0X0X0X0X

Arithmancy was uneventful for Draco. Pansy had opted not to take this class, and with Blaise sulking at her absence and Theo sent out of the room for mouthing off at the Professor, he had absolutely nobody worth talking to. He spent the class with his head down, working hard and ignoring the majority of the class who were sending him intermittent glares (and was it just him or were they more irritated than usual?) and, surprisingly, Granger who was sending him a strange pitying look every now and again. He fervently hoped that she wasn't planning on making some SPEW project out of rehabilitated Death Eaters or something.

The class passed by monotonously but for the strange gazes, and before he knew it the bell was signalling dinner time. Draco sighed, making his way out of the quickly emptying room and hurrying down to the dungeons to deposit his belongings along the way. Although it wasn't even nearly bedtime, the young Slytherin was finding himself feeling unreasonably tired. So much so that he waved off Pansy's beckoning to accompany her to supper in favour of falling face first on his bed, groaning into the downy pillows.

He only allowed himself a five-minute respite, however, before quickly pulling himself over to the nearest mirror and assuring that he was presentable. He didn't hurry, not worried about arriving late to the Great Hall - garnering attention was a fondness he had yet to break, no matter what manner of attention it was. So it was with a comfortable saunter that he made his way out of his dorm room and smacked right into his new boyfriend.

Said boyfriend let out an exclamation of concern, followed up by a "Oh Merlin Draco, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" Draco smiled fondly as the other Slytherin's strong hands came up to grip his arms and keep him from tumbling to the ground.

"I'm fine Theo," he couldn't help but giggle as the other boy made a show of checking him over. "Stop it," he added, shoving playfully at the taller boy when he just crowded closer.

"I don't know," the brunet replied seriously, "it looks like you got a little bump on your nose. Let me just kiss it better." And with that, he was pressing a sweet kiss to the pointy tip of Draco's nose. The blonde gasped in surprise, but before he could bring up any words his boyfriend had started speaking again.

"In fact, it looks like you might have hit your forehead too," he said, quickly pressing a kiss there as well. "And your chin," kiss, "ear," kiss, "collarbone," kiss, "and your mouth," he finished softly. Draco's breath caught as the older boy moved in slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as they met in a gentle kiss.

A moan emitted from between them as Theo backed him back into their room, kissing more forcefully now as a spark of passion ignited between. Heat surged through his body as they stumbled through the room, locked at the lips, until they fell haphazardly onto one of the beds populating the room.

Draco groaned and wrapped his slender arms around a muscled neck, arching up into the kiss. He felt his boyfriend start rutting against him, a thick hand reaching down between them to slip under Draco's trousers and -

"Stop!" He gasped out, pushing weakly at the other boy's shoulders. Theo immediately pulled back, his dark eyes glinting with worry.

"What's wrong Draco?" He asked, sitting up and scanning Draco for any possible injuries. The blonde bit his lip as he caught sight of the bulge straining against the other Slytherin's trousers. This was potentially the worst time he could pick to have this conversation with Theo, but there was no other time to do it. He had to explain to his boyfriend that he wanted to take it slowly, or this might end in intercourse and he was so not ready for that.

"I …uh," he began, then scowled at how unsure he sounded. _Malfoy, _he reminded himself sternly. "We need to talk," he told his partner firmly. Theo's smile faltered.

"Is everything okay?" He asked carefully, the waver in his voice unnoticeable had one not been looking for it. Draco smiled encouragingly.

"Hey, hey, everything's fine. I just wanted to…" he swallowed against the ball of nerves that had once again clawed up his throat. Once he was sure he wasn't just going to start babbling and stuttering, he opened his mouth again.

"I want to take things slowly." Well, blurting hadn't exactly been what he had intending either. But it was out there now, and there was nothing he could do about it. In an unMalfoy-ish show of nerves, he bit his bottom lip gently while he looked anxiously at his boyfriend for a response.

Theo simply stared at him for a good fifteen seconds. Then a slow smile spread across his face, a bit of mirth entering his eyes the way it happens when somebody has just understood the punch line of a joke. "Right, of course Dray," he said easily, sliding an arm around the blonde's trim waist and easing himself closer. "We can take it slow," he whispered, right before he slipped his hands down over the front of Draco's trousers.

With a disgusted cry, the Ice Prince shoved his wayward boyfriend off him, standing up in a rush of righteous fury. "I'm serious you twat!" he exclaimed, slapping away the hand that the other boy reached out to him.

A look of confusion washed over the handsome face as it dawned on the Slytherin that Draco might be telling the truth. As Draco glared down at him, the confusion swiftly disappeared and was replaced by fury.

"What the fuck?" The brunet yelled, also surging to his feet. Draco stepped back, eyes widening as the boy before him practically trembled with rage. Theo wouldn't let him escape though, crowding closer for every step that the blonde took away until he had him cornered against a wall.

"What the fuck do you mean you want to 'take it slow'?" He demanded furiously, one hand gripping Draco's arm tightly to prevent him from squirming free. The Malfoy heir winced at the pain that the rough treatment caused, and scowled at the angry boy.

"Let me go!" He demanded, tugging fruitlessly against the strong grip that only tightened further at his efforts. "I said let go you boor!"

Instead of letting go, however, Theo simply tugged him closer and wound a hand in the soft hair at the back of Draco's head, tugging back and forcing the blonde to look at him.

"Answer me you bitch. Why the fuck do you want to take it slow now? You had no problem whoring yourself out all over Turtletoes' desk did you?" As he spoke, he started shaking Draco roughly, his harsh treatment only intensifying the headache that had been throbbing since that morning. "Is this some sort of game for you, you fucking tease? Get Theodore all horny and then play coy? Well, fuck that! And fuck you, you little slut." And with those parting words, he tossed the blonde away from him and stormed out.

Draco didn't even bother attempting to catch his fall, so stung was he by the cruel words. Unbidden, tears rushed to his eyes as those insecurities he had been feeling since that morning were thrown back in his face. Of course he was a slut. First Potter and now Nott, he was behaving like a bloody skank. He was no better than those muggle whores that his father had raped in the dining room while Voldemort had held him at wandpoint. The Slytherin buried his face into his palms with a sob.

**So. Chapter 6 is done. I feel like there was a lot of pointless angst this time (mostly from Harry) **

**Next Chapter: What's Draco going to do now? Will Theo apologise? Will Draco even take him back if he did? And what happens when signs of Draco's pregnancy start showing, but he still doesn't trust Madam Pomfrey? Angst will probably be around.**

**Stay tuned~**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Word Count: ~ 8 439**

**Warnings for this chapter: some slut shaming, bad writing, m!preg**

**Summary: **After a drunken one-night-stand, Draco is left heartbroken and pregnant. When that also goes wrong, he convinces himself that he's not right for Harry and attempts to move on again. Several years later, however, a terrible incident lands him in St. Mungo's, where Harry finds him. With the blonde pregnant and slipping into depression, can Harry save the man he rejected so many years ago? And will he want to? Drarry. Not Epilogue compliant

**Story Warnings**: explicit sex , slash, gang rape, m!preg, et cetera et cetera.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters or creatures. I do not own the setting, locations, and world used in this story. I own only the plot. This is a work of fiction. It is not based on actual events. I do not condone rape of any sort. There is no monetary compensation being achieved from this work. Views expressed by the characters are not necessarily shared by myself.

**So the truth is I've grown beyond this story and the characterization annoys me now. However, I've already committed to not abandoning it because that would set a fairly dangerous (to me anyway) precedence that I don't want to allow. For a long time I put off working on this story because it irks me. I'm trying to move the story to a better place and characterization without it being too jarring a transition and interrupting the story itself, so…we'll see how it goes. Unfortunately, some of the previous foreshadowing and hints have had to be scrapped because of this. **

**This chapter also took a long time because I had trouble with the time skip, and getting everything told with a good pacing. It's still not perfect but I've literally sat on this for 10 months so I figured I'd better just get it out there. **

**I also learnt some editing so I took out a lot of behind the scenes workings that were unnecessary. I'm sorry to people who enjoy that sort of thing. A bunch of things have been removed because of this too (especially a lot of the Madam Pomfrey time)**

**Again, sorry for any mistakes, this is unbeta'd …just point them out to me and I'll fix yes? **

**Also to the lovely reviewers…Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to leave me a review. Love to you all. And a shout out to those who reviewed after Chapter 6 was posted. Thank you **_**borderlinecrazy, Daddy's little crazy bitch, Belldandy55555, guest, nikitabell, fan girl 666, Lovely Queen of Sorrow, , MDarKspIrIt, ggff—1000, RocklifeDude, Ylterces A, ThebeatlesHead, aimu, Joey Bermuda Ketail, Charlie0925, .**_** I can't reply when people aren't logged in or when private messaging is disabled so I shall reply to those here ^^;**

**Guest: **I'm sorry if it seems off-topic. I guess I worded the summary misleadingly. It was always meant to be in two parts, although I admit I got a little caught up in the first part. However, there are still about 5 more chapters to this part and it will probably remain that way unless I merge a few (which might happen).

**Aimu: **Thank you . Haha I feel bad for Draco, but… the inspiration bug wants what it wants lol. Don't worry, I have no intention of abandoning the story.

**Charlie0925: **Thanks very much . Yeah, unfortunately Draco just gets repeatedly metaphorically punched in the gut in this fic…

**Thank you for reading, Hope you enjoy ~**

**- Flammy**

AoAoAoAoAo

_ "Draco didn't even bother attempting to catch his fall, so stung was he by the cruel words. Unbidden, tears rushed to his eyes as those insecurities he had been feeling since that morning were thrown back in his face. Of course he was a slut. First Potter and now Nott, he was behaving like a bloody skank. He was no better than those muggle whores that his father had raped in the dining room while Voldemort had held him at wandpoint. The Slytherin buried his face into his palms with a sob."_

Although Lucius always abhorred crying as a sign of weakness, Draco still felt the need to indulge in the activity sometimes, and now was one such time. He slumped to the filthy floor and cried into his hands like a child, filling the quiet room with the pathetic sounds of his sorrow for longer than he cared to acknowledge. It wasn't until he heard the distinctive noise of students returning from dinner, their satisfied voices mingling with their footsteps as they entered into the dim common room, that he uncurled from the miserable ball that he had coiled into. Wiping his face off roughly, the young blond quickly stood and composed his expression into its usual disinterested mask. A wave of his wand erased any lingering redness about his eyes, ensuring his usual Malfoy façade would not be foiled.

Blaise was the first to enter the room, his dark eyes immediately finding Draco's silver ones. The darker boy raised an eyebrow at the sight of Draco lurking in the room, but before any words could be exchanged, an argument erupted from without the dorm room.

"You're not to go in - No, no I don't care - I said no - Well it's not your room until I'm done with it - Until I say so - I don't care, do it out here - Didn't I just say I don't care?" The door flew open and loudly struck the wall, and Pansy marched in looking extremely proud of herself. Outside, a group of scowling boys lingered, grumbling under their breath.

Pansy' eyes widened as she caught sight of Draco, a grin lighting up her features. "Why Drakey, you're here!" She exclaimed, moving across the room to hug him. Blaise scowled over at the pair of them from his bed.

"Where else would I be Pans?" He drawled, ignoring Blaise's sudden hostility and raising an eyebrow at the girl. She frowned and drew back.

"Didn't you have-" she cut herself off suddenly, eyes narrowing dangerously, "Draco, have you been crying?" She questioned suspiciously. Behind them, Blaise let out an irritated sigh, and Draco was suddenly struck by the fact that they had probably planned to have some alone time in here.

"Ah, no," he denied hurriedly, trying to edge around the formidable girl and leave the pair of them to their solitude. Pansy, however, would not let him escape, her suddenly claw-like hand shooting out and gripping his arm to prevent him from moving.

"What happened?" She demanded, her tone equal parts worried and threatening. Draco shook his head desperately, wanting nothing more than to escape the room without having to admit to his shameful behaviour and leave the two of them to themselves.

"Nothing happened, I'm fine!" He insisted, attempting again to pull himself free from her grip. Once more it proved fruitless and the girl's grip only tightened painfully.

"You're not leaving here until you talk to me Drakey," she informed him in deadly tones. When he didn't answer her, she scowled at him and then turned sharply to Blaise. "You! Out." She ordered firmly. The Slytherin sputtered furiously in clear indignation, but the dark haired girl refused to be dissuaded and her glare eventually sent Blaise from the room, followed by an apologetic grimace from her blond friend.

Draco sighed in resignation as Pansy manhandled him back to his bed and pushed him harshly down onto it. "Now talk." She said brusquely. When he didn't answer, she eyed him critically. "Is it Theo?"

"How do you always know these things?" huffed the boy petulantly, turning his face away and crossing his arms over his chest. Pansy raised an eyebrow.

"Draco, darling," she said patiently, "you and your boyfriend were gone all supper and then I found you here _not_ macking on each other? Obviously _something_ was wrong."

Draco nodded to the blanket before smiling pitifully at that. "Yes," he conceded absently, "I suppose that does seem strange." Pansy nodded in response and then tilted her head expectantly.

"So?" She prompted. "What happened?" When Draco simply shook his head she sighed. "You know I'm not giving up until you tell me," she said, moving to sit next to him and wrap him in her arms.

Draco sighed and leant against her, resting his head on her shoulder. "It is Theo," he admitted to the nearly empty room. Pansy hummed next to him, silent now as she allowed him to tell her in his own time.

"I …I just told him that I wanted… I wanted to take it slow," he told her quietly, his voice cracking into a sob despite his best efforts to stop it.

"And he had a row with you about that?" She sounded …incredulous. Furious. Draco couldn't help but feel a little bit better. He nodded, turning his face into her shoulder. She was tense against him, but wasted no time in wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"He… he called me a whore," Draco whispered against her shirt, feeling even more pathetic for the weakness he was showing. He immediately felt her reaction to that statement in the way she tensed further, but before she could voice her anger Draco cut her off. "He's right you know."

Pansy drew away abruptly, turning sharply to face him. "What?" She exclaimed, the volume making him wince. "No Draco, he's not! How could you think so?" She searched his face, and, apparently displeased with what she found, grabbed his shoulders and shook him firmly. It seemed a habit of hers when she was frustrated.

Draco shook her off irritably. "I am," he insisted. "You don't know what happened. I behaved like a complete slut." Pansy stared at him, looking like she was gearing up to berate him. He sighed, prepared for her to tell him that he rightfully deserved Theo's words, when they were interrupted by yet another commotion from beyond the doors.

"Where is he?" Draco froze, his eyes widening at the familiar voice. It silenced for a moment as it was answered by a weak stutter that they couldn't quite make out, but quickly returned. "Well go and get him!"

"Shite," Draco swore, ignoring Pansy's affronted 'Draco!' "Fucking hell, I have to go!" He leapt off the bed, scrambling for his shoes as he hurried to the door.

"What's wrong? Draco?" His friend called from the bed, her worry at her best friends actions bleeding clearly into her voice.

"I forgot that I had detention with Turtletoes this afternoon," he replied distractedly, stumbling slightly as he tugged his left shoe onto his foot.

As he raced through the door, he could hear Pansy shrieking "WHAT?" behind him. It didn't take her long to leap to her feet and hurry up beside him as he made his way down the hall, screeching in his ear the whole time. "Draco, have you gone mental? I thought you had come back from that already, you blasted idiot. Merlin, what's he going to do to you?"

"Bugger if I know," Draco snarled back, irritated by her insults. He ignored the annoyed sigh that sounded behind him and hurried into the common room just as a terrified-looking first year was about to make his way into the hall.

"Oh, you're here," he said in what was quite obviously relief. Draco raised an eyebrow, but before he could reply, the boy had turned around and cheeped out, "Here he is sir," before racing off into the hallway behind Draco.

Draco watched him go for a moment before glaring at Turtletoes, terrified of what was to come and yet furious at the man for terrorizing his house. The few people who hadn't managed to escape the common room were cowering against the furniture, trying to make themselves invisible to the cruel professor. The sight enraged Draco more than he would have thought it might, and he relished in his anger, allowing it to eclipse his other emotions. Anger he could work with.

"You wanted to see me Professor?" he asked levelly, his famed Malfoy mask sliding smoothly into place. The Gryffindor professor seemed untroubled by his nonchalance.

"Yes Mr. Malfoy. You see, in case it slipped your daft skull, you had a detention today that you ought to have showed up to…" Here he paused to make a show of checking his pocket-watch, "oh, about an hour ago now." He looked back up, his glasses glinting in the dim light. "I don't suppose you have a reason for wasting my precious time now, do you?" Draco fought the impulse of his lip to curl into a sneer, his dislike for Turtletoes rising further at each condescending word.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid find your company simply too tedious. I was hardly in the mood to suffer it today, so I made the decision to skip your little detention," Draco drawled glibly, privately enjoying the absolutely shocked expression that stole over his teachers face at his attitude. Behind Turtletoes, the few snakes in the room looked terrified. He could feel his own stomach coiling into frightened knots at his boldness, but he firmly stood his ground.

"You - I - WHAT?" sputtered the bespectacled professor, utterly thrown by Draco's reply. It took him a moment to regain his faculties before he exploded in rage. "How dare you speak to me that way you devil child? You ought to be expelled for this! Insolent scum like you doesn't belong in our hallowed school! Why they ever have let any of you in to begin with, I'll never know!"

Draco fought down a yelp as the older man grasped him harshly by the arm and began physically dragging him from the room. Despite their yet obvious fear, the Slytherin Prince couldn't help but notice his fellow students bristling, hands going stealthily to concealed wands as they perceived a potential threat to their self-appointed leader.

It was a heart-warming thought that they would all risk expulsion for him, although how much of it was for him and how much grew from a desire to curse Turtletoes, Draco would never be sure. He could not risk his snakes getting thrown out over something like this, however. With the current political climate and mindset, the Slytherins would need every good NEWT score that they could get to succeed out there. He caught Daphne Greengrass' eye and gave her a tiny shake of his head. She understood at once, pocketing her want and motioning for the others to do the same. As he was pulled from the room, they all gathered at the door, dark anger on their brows as they glared after Turtletoes.

It was the second time that year that he had found himself in the Headmistress' office. The first had been on the first day of school, when she had pulled him aside to warn him that should he try any funny business, he would be out of there in a heartbeat. He had been momentarily worried before she had shattered the ominous tone by drawing him into a hug and warning him to be careful, to come to her should anyone start anything with him.

He had not honoured his agreement to that statement, not fully trusting the tartan-loving witch to have his best interests at heart. Now, however, he fervently hoped that she did.

"And what might be the problem here Edgar?" McGonagall questioned sternly upon their entrance, her eyes glinting disapproval over her glasses as she looked up at them from the parchment she had been writing upon.

The elder blond began his complaint and Draco found himself tuning out, instead looking with interest at the rather unappealing combination of delicate silver instruments whirring against stark heavy tartan cloth. The last time he was here, he had not paid much attention to his surroundings, wishing only to leave as soon as possible. Now he took the time to look about. Behind the door stood an empty bird stand, the Sorting Hat was sat atop a shelf across the room, and around him the portraits of old headmasters feigned slumber. Draco shivered slightly, keeping his gaze pointedly averted from a certain portrait set to his left.

"Mr. Malfoy!" The sharp voice cut into his musings. His head snapped around to face the speaker, his gaze back on the stern woman before him who was glaring at him quite irately. Once she had ensured that she held his attention, she spoke again. "Is this true Mr. Malfoy?"

The Slytherin looked at her warily for a moment before sighing and gathering his courage. He had started this, and now he was not going to back down from it. For better or worse, he was going to stand his ground. "Perhaps I didn't put it in the most…delicate…manner," he began carefully, "but I was merely speaking the truth. Did you know that he called me a dunce? In the week that we've been back he's called me everything from a disgusting little beast to devil spawn to Death Eater!"

"_You are a Death Eater,_" Turtletoes cut in, looking furious. Draco quailed away from his ire, looking at the blond man with a fear that was only half manufactured.

"Edgar!" Professor McGonagall rose to her feet in one fluid motion, setting her hands firmly on the desk, her lips thinning dangerously.

The new Transfiguration Professor didn't seem to appreciate her intervention. "Minerva, with all due respect, I too was merely stating the truth. Why have we even allowed this weasel into the school? He and his kind ought to be locked away for the rest of their shoddy lives, somewhere far from us decent folk. Have you forgotten what he's done?"

Draco fought to hide a triumphant smirk as he took in the glare that the old woman was directing at the younger teacher. Finally someone seemed to be in his corner, and he couldn't be happier for it.

"We've talked about this Edgar," she replied in a dangerous tone. The man held her glare for all of a second before he dropped it, glaring instead at his clasped hands.

"Yes Headmistress," he conceded, his tone brimming with restrained rage. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and swept to the door. "I'll just leave him to you then," he added, before leaving the room with a bellowing of his cloak and a slamming of the door.

McGonagall heaved a heavy sigh and dropped back into her chair. Draco looked at her hopefully, pleading with his eyes to be released without further trouble. His heart sank when McGonagall looked right at him and instead offered him a ginger snap.

"No thank you," he declined politely, sitting at her impatient gesture and folding his hands into his lap. Her lips pursed as she pulled the tin of biscuits back toward herself.

"What am I to do with you?" She asked, half to herself. Draco didn't respond, instead giving her his best innocent look. It didn't seem to do him any favours, as McGonagall was still regarding him with her infamous pursed-lips-of-disapproval. "You realise that you cannot remain in his class any longer?" She finally continued. Draco looked at her in surprise, and she snorted. "Clearly he is going to do his level best to make your schooling career incredibly difficult. As this is a very important year for you, I cannot allow that."

Draco gaped at her, aware that he looked like a right dunce but unable to stop. After the way that she'd treated him over the years, he had seriously believed that she might have taken Turtletoes' side in this whole debacle. The fact that she hadn't had honestly shocked him. To have her caring this much seemed completely unreal.

"You have Transfiguration on Monday and Thursday, before and after lunch respectively, correct?" The old woman asked sharply. Still too surprised to speak, Draco nodded mutely at her. The Headmistress nodded herself, looking thoughtful. "Very well," she said decisively, her hands coming to rest again on her desk, "you are to take your Transfiguration lessons with myself instead. Of course, as you might imagine, there may be some days when my duties will have me simply too busy to teach you, and that will mean it requires some extra time and effort on your part. Is this acceptable?"

Draco was aware that he was gaping again, but once more he found himself helpless to quit. "I…you want to give _me_ private lessons?" He eventually asked, suspicion that he couldn't help lacing his voice. This all seemed too good to be true, getting Turtletoes in trouble and then getting to take his Transfiguration with McGonagall instead, who, as well as not appearing to want to do him serious bodily injury, happened to be a much better teacher.

Then he remembered his Slytherins, and he felt the bubble of hope that had begun to swell in his chest rapidly deflate. As much as he would love to get away from the cruel teacher, he knew he could not leave them to fend for themselves against the man. Although they were all sharp and capable, they seemed to have chosen him as their rock with which to anchor themselves. It wasn't so much that they couldn't handle themselves without him; it was more the thought that he might leave them to do so that would upset them and cause them to lash out blindly, likely ending with them being expelled.

He politely shook his head at McGonagall. "Thank you for your kind offer, Professor, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline." The expression of pure shock that appeared on her face would very nearly caused him to laugh aloud had he not been so disheartened.

"Decline?" She echoed, visibly pulling herself together. "If I may be so bold as to ask, Mr. Malfoy… why on earth would you decline?"

"I know you don't think much of me Professor," he began, lips quirking into a bitter smile at her immediate bristle, "but I shan't leave my Slytherins to face that mans ire alone, particularly not now that he will be especially vindictive. And most certainly not when that's my fault."

If possible, the Headmistress' lips thinned even further. She gazed at him with a look of unmistakeable displeasure for a moment, and he met her gaze evenly. Finally she sighed. "Very well. You and all of the other Slytherins in your class shall take your Transfiguration with myself at the allotted time." Her lips thinned further in apparent displeasure. "You may leave now Mr. Malfoy. Please inform your classmates of the situation."

Recognizing the dismissal, Draco hurriedly stood and made for the door. He could scarcely believe his luck and had been quite willing to leave things as they were, but as he stepped foot over the threshold, curiosity overcame him. Pausing, he looked back over his shoulder at the woman who sat slumped at her desk, massaging her temples.

"Headmistress, if I may ask… why are you doing this?"

McGonagall looked at him wearily, and the blonde had never seen her look as old as she did in that moment. "Because I have seen the results of hate and prejudice," she said tiredly, her gaze sad and far away, "and I've no wish to see them again."

Draco had no response to that, instead just dropping his gaze to his feet. He still didn't trust the old Gryffindor witch to have his own best interests at heart, but he at least believed that her reasoning was honest.

"Goodnight," he bade, and then quickly stepped out onto the spiraling staircase that carried him back down to the empty corridor. He struck out for the Slytherin dungeons, a shocked smile slowly growing on his lips as he processed what had just occurred.

He arrived at the blank stretch of wall that concealed the common rooms with no trouble, and took a moment to conceal his joy before entering the room. Unsurprisingly, almost the entire house was gathered there with varying degrees of worry displayed on their faces. News of what he had said to Turtletoes would have spread quickly amongst this lot.

"What happened? What have they done?" Demanded Astoria Greengrass from where a group of sixth-year girls huddled by the fire. The Slytherins fixed him with sharp stares that failed to fully hide the worry that they all carried. It was a bit of a fight to hold back the smile, but Draco maintained his blank mask, looking solemnly out at his assorted housemates.

"A very big thing has occured tonight," he told them soberly, "a big thing that, of course, affects not only me, but all of us here in Slytherin. I ought to have taken that into account and talked to you before I did what I did, and for this I am sorry." He paused here, looking out bleakly at the faces whose expressions ranged from worried to terrified. Biting his lip to keep from laughing, he looked at his feet and continued, "I guess nothing will really be the same anymore, especially for the older Slytherins. Please do not think ill of me for this."

He spared a moment to enjoy the view of the stricken faces - he may love his snakes but he still enjoyed a good prank - before grinning at the lot of them. "From this day forth," he announced pompously, "every Slytherin seventh-year shall take their Transfiguration lesson with Professor McGonagall."

A stunned silence met his announcement, the entire room staring at him stupidly for a moment before they all began clamouring in unison. The most prominent question that rose above the cacophony was 'How', and so Draco happily divulged his story.

By the time they began making their way to their dorms, it was already well past midnight. The last few hours had been the best that most of them had yet had since returning to the school. Almost the entire Slytherin house, bolstered by the victory against Turtletoes, had spent the evening in the common room passing around laughter and jokes and generally being better company than they'd so far been. It was only when one of the third year girls had fallen asleep in the middle of what was probably the largest round of Exploding Snap ever to be held in the school that they decided to cut the impromptu party short and retire to bed.

Draco called goodnight to his fellow housemates and slipped behind the curtains of his bed, intent on changing and then salvaging what sleep-time he had left.

All thoughts of sleep fled his mind, however, when he saw what awaited him on his pillows. A bouquet of flowers; mainly consisting of roses intermingled with narcissuses and, his own favourite, snowbells. The result was a rather chaotic and unappealing bunch, but whoever had sent it knew him well enough to know which flowers were near and dear to his heart.

Smiling slightly, he reached out and picked up the bouquet, noting immediately the immaculately wrapped gift beneath it. Setting the flowers into a vase that he transfigured from a Chocolate Frog wrapper, the blonde snatched up the present and began unwrapping it, a gasp of delight leaving his lips as he saw the large box of his very favourite Parisian chocolates. A note sat innocuously on top, and he was quick to put down the box in favour of reading the neatly sloping handwriting.

_Draco,_

_I cannot expect you to forgive me for the horrid manner in which I treated you earlier, but the fact remains that I am terribly sorry. There is no good excuse for my behaviour, although it was in part spurred by some earlier received correspondence regarding my mothers welfare that distressed me greatly. It was, however, terribly wrong of me to take it out on you as I did. If I may, I would ask you to meet me at the Quidditch Pitch that I may present my apology properly. You are special and unique and it would kill me to lose you._

_Theodore._

Draco let the letter fall back to the bed, an unbidden sense disappointment stealing over him like a cold wave. Really, he didn't know why he had even imagined that it might have been somebody other than Theodore. His heart had immediately jumped to a scruffy haired Gryffindor, foolishly holding out hope that the bespectacled hero may have had a change of heart despite the fact that the rest of Draco had moved on. But that very thought was madness, and Draco spared a moment to admonish himself for it.

His good mood now washed away, the Ice Prince of Slytherin stared at the gifts on his bed and contemplated whether or not to bother with his housemates request to meet. On one hand, he was severely pissed off with the other boy and had no desire to speak with him – not to mention that the meeting had been requested outside, where it was bound to be chilly. On the other hand… perhaps he ought to give Theodore a second chance. After all, everyone made mistakes. He himself had made some unforgivable ones, ones that had led harm to others, and yet he had received a second chance. At the very least, should he not extend that same courtesy to others?

Huffing angrily at having guilted himself into it, the blonde stormed from his sleeping area, waving off the questions that his exit aroused with practiced nonchalance. He would go up to the Quidditch Pitch and hear Theodore's apology. Whether or not he would accept it, he would decide afterwards. After his victory in the Headmistress' Office, he felt a small inkling of the self-confidence that he had not borne witness to in a while, and he would not allow his short-lived boyfriend to tamp that down.

The trek to the Quidditch Pitch was long, and every bit as cold as he had anticipated, and Draco grew more irritated with each step he took. By the time he saw the dark shadows of the stands, he was shaking from the chill and ready to hex Theodore's bollocks off.

He stepped onto the pitch, the biting comment perched on the tip of his tongue teetering and falling away as he saw what awaited him. The candles were the first thing he noticed, floating around the field effortlessly, their dripping wax vanishing long before it neared the grass. A bed of fluffy cushions wrapped in fine silk sat before a delicious looking meal, well presented on a low table that was adorned with yet more candles, and tiny scattered flowers. Before all of that knelt one Theodore Nott, gently placing the last little white flower into a large 'I'm sorry' sign constructed out of those same flowers. A charm around the whole area kept it warm and still.

Draco pursed his lips at the display, watching impassively as the other Slytherin became aware of his presence and stood, his face shining hopefully. "Draco, you've come," he remarked obviously, his voice breathless with apparent happiness. The boy in question nodded shortly.

"I have." He agreed, stepping forward and looking around at the decorations. "What's all this then?" He studied the flowery apology as he spoke. It was very pretty, he would admit. Theodore stood, still bearing a façade of hope.

"It's my apology," he replied. Draco raised an eyebrow by way of answer, and the elder boy's confidence dimmed a little. "Well, a part of it anyway," he amended hurriedly, snatching at Draco's pale hands. "Obviously not all of it, but I thought a little romantic gesture couldn't hurt. I really am terribly sorry Draco! I care for you a great deal, you know, and it kills me to have you angry at me. I would do anything to earn your forgiveness!

"I scarcely expected you to com, to be honest. I had no right treating you as I did, and it would not surprise me in the slightest if you never wished to speak with me again. I sincerely hope that you will, however, allow me to explain myself at the very least! I had just this morning received a missive from my father informing me that my mother was in ill-health. It had me stressed for the entire day – didn't you notice? – and when you pulled away and left me like that, so turned on, I just snapped and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please let me to make it up to you! Give me one last chance, please!"

Draco's eyes narrowed at the boy before him, not appreciating the implied accusation that he sensed in the elder boy's words. He tugged his hands away from Theo's grasp, instead landing them firmly on his hips as he glared at his classmate. The pose seemed to frighten the other Slytherin, for he quailed slightly and began stammering again.

"I promise, I swear to god Draco, I'll never do such a thing again!" He beseeched pathetically, eyes almost tearing in desperation. "Please, you must believe me! Second chances right? Please forgive me Draco!" He grasped at Draco's hands again, pulling them away from the slighter boys slender hips and gripping them tightly as he begged.

The blond stared at the snivelling boy before him and was suddenly struck by how utterly pitiable he seemed. Why should he, Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy legacy, cringe and cower and feel inferior to someone so absolutely ordinary as Theodore Nott? The elder boy had always put forth the Slytherin front, calm and collected, and in his past week of vulnerability it had intimidated him. But now, as he bore witness to the other's weakness and it brought him down to Draco's level, the blonde felt some of his defensiveness falling away.

"Fine," he found himself saying, mouth moving almost without his consent. Theodore perked up unbelievingly, his brown eyes brimming with hope. "Fine, I'll accept your apology. But-" here Draco held up a hand, forestalling the words that Theo was about to spew, "-but. You need to be aware that if this happens again, we're done. I am not taking any shit from you Theodore. Not rudeness, not pressure, and definitely not sex. You either accept that I need time or you don't, but there's definitely no compromise on that. Understand?"

The other Slytherin stared, wide eyed. At Draco's barked "Well?" he began nodding fervently.

"I uh- that is to say, yes! Yes of course!" The elder boy squeezed the pale-haired youths hands excitedly before dragging him toward the pillows, emphasising the whole time how happy he was that Draco was giving this chance and how he was going to do better and prove he deserved it.

As they rushed past the flower apology, the breeze caused by their passing caused the petals to stir until they suddenly fluttered up into the air and danced among the candles. Draco belatedly recognised the hover charm sitting just above where the message had been, and he found himself smiling at the amount of thought that the other Slytherin had put into this. And as he settled onto the luxurious pillows and tucked into the succulent food, tiny flowers and candles floating past and beautiful stars twinkling above them, Draco fancied that his life might be looking up after all.

Within the next couple of months, that assessment proved fairly accurate. In the weeks following that night, Draco soared. After his victory against Turtletoes, he was once again unanimously the leader of the Slytherin house, and any doubts as to whether or not he deserved that position were completely dispelled. Using his reaffirmed power, the blond set to work forming study groups, tutor sessions, and in-house practice clubs. While the rest of the students continued to throw wild parties in the Great Hall every weekend, Slytherin now spent much of that time holding self-defence workshops and under-the-radar duelling practices. At first the snakes had resented the loss of party time. However, when every Slytherins grade increased markedly and as a whole Slytherin began outperforming the rest of the school, bar Ravenclaw, they all settled down with an unmistakeable aura of pride.

About two weeks in, Slughorn caught them in the midst of a duelling practice that was technically against the rules. Instead of punishing them, however, he made a deal to turn a blind eye upon Draco's promise to attend his next Slug Club meeting. The Slytherin reluctantly forced himself to make his presence known and, upon arriving, found himself pleasantly surprised at the fact that neither Potter nor any of his goons were in attendance. Since that moment, the Malfoy heir had attended every one, delighting in sneering behind Slughorn's back at the few other students that bothered to show. He also used the time to schmooze up to the old Professor, and within the fortnight had secured himself an apprenticeship upon graduating. Although he still felt that his old mentor, Severus, had been a far better potion master, he could admit that getting into Slughorn's 'favourites' did a huge amount toward getting his questions in-depth answers. His experiments in Potions class also tended to go overlooked, so he counted that as a huge bonus.

As things reached a new high in Potions, so too did they in Herbology. Professor Sprout seemed to have accepted him as one of the better students in her class, and had taken to occasionally calling him over to show him her new, specially ordered plants and explain their properties and uses. He often attended these impromptu 'meetings' with Longbottom and the Mudblood, the latter of which spent the majority of the time giving him a suspicious stink-eye that he steadfastly ignored. Longbottom, on the other hand, seemed ecstatic that there was another person with whom he could discuss plants and had actually dared approaching him outside class one time to blather on about some rare plant he planned on mating with. Or…whatever he had been talking about. However, having one of the great War Heroes on apparent speaking terms with him seemed to do wonders with his standing within the school, and he noticed a fair bit less open hostility after that occurrence. That was the _only_ reason he had not hexed Longbottom's bollocks of for talking to him

For all the good, however, there of course had to be bad. And Potter, as always, seemed determined to make up the bad of Draco's life. Apparently seized by suspicion at the Slytherins' sudden absence from Transfiguration, he predictably blamed Draco and had taken to following him around and glowering at him for the first couple of weeks after the incident in McGonagall's office. It had all come to a head eventually, with Potter cornering him in a crowded hallway at wandpoint and demanding to know what he was up to. Draco, still furious at Potter's treatment of him, had refused to divulge the situation, only insisting that it was none of the nosy Gryffindor's business. Potter had appeared fully ready to hex him when McGonagall had caught wind of what was going on. Draco didn't think he had ever seen anything funnier than Potter's face when McGonagall dragged him off after assigning him detention for a week.

Care of Magical Creatures was another thing that didn't go so well. For the first eight or nine classes, he had been unable to even touch whatever beasts they were supposed to be studying as his Slytherins seemed to have taken it upon themselves to fiercely protect him from 'Hagrids untoward designs'. Then, the large oaf managed to wrangle some unicorns into being his subject for the day - and hadn't they already gone through this with Grubby-Plank? Apparently, however, Hagrid "Din' want yer all learnin' the wrong stuff from tha' Grubby-Plank", so the boys prepared themselves for another class of getting to do nothing.

Hagrid's information on the unicorns had turned out to be exactly the same as Grubby-Planks with a far less eloquent delivery, and Draco had quickly bored of the class. He had been staring off into the distance, contemplating what he should name his potion shop if he ever did open one, when he heard a sudden hush fall over the class, followed by a nudge at his abdomen. Looking down, he had been astonished to discover that all of the unicorns appeared to have abandoned the girls over by the paddock and instead decided to shove their silken noses into his highly expensive shirt. His shocked grey eyes had shot up to meet the equally shocked – and jealous – eyes of his classmates. After that, Hagrid had begun to consider him some sort of magical-beast-friend or something, and Draco had been quick to drop that class.

The only class left that he actually disliked was Muggle Studies, which was a bit like History of Magic except more boring, since it was about Muggles. He, and the rest of the Slytherin house, had been assigned that class by the Ministry, and he generally used it for napping when he had had a late night. The teacher was oblivious to their lack of interest, happily blathering on about 'denim' and 'telly', but the Gryffindors in the class all seemed to find the sleeping Slytherins highly offensive and would shoot them dirty looks as the class emptied.

As the days passed, however, Draco began to notice a new problem that was growing worse every day – his health. The headaches that troubled him early in the year now seemed to plague him ceaselessly, and had brought with them a terrible nausea that had him tossing up at all hours of the day – and night. Sleepless nights were becoming more frequent as he began to spend them bent over the porcelain bowl instead, expelling the contents of his stomach.

He had not been near Pomfrey since the Headache Potion, hoping that without her maintenance the curse she had clearly cast on him would fade away. It seemed to be doing the very opposite, though, and was developing alarmingly. He was feeling relentlessly tired lately, his chest was sore, and his back ached. The sight -and smell!- of the food-laden tables of the Great Hall had him feeling ill more often than not and he found himself ducking into the loo for a piss almost every chance he got. And worse than all of that, her curse seemed to be causing him weight gain.

The first time he noticed it was a few weeks back when he had been performing his daily primping in the bathroom. At the time, he had written it off as his paranoia and had only eaten fruit again at breakfast to make himself feel better. Then, just a few days later, he had been frotting with Theo when the other boy had pulled back and commented on 'that cute bit of flab he had developed.' He had screeched and hit the other boy with a pillow before barricading himself in his room and, horrified, scrutinizing every inch of himself in the mirror. Once he came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, bearing a slightly less flat belly, he had thrown himself into his bed and sobbed for the rest of the afternoon, only stopping when bangs on the door alerted him that his roommates wanted to come in.

That was when the dieting had started in earnest. Following his meltdown, he had drawn up a strict exercise and diet chart and stuck to it like glue, even managing to abstain from the delicious desserts that the house elves were vindictively making extra-appealing as of late. None of it seemed to help though, and Draco's next measurement revealed that he had indeed grown larger yet again.

The only good thing about this new predicament was that it completely and surely drove Potter from his mind. Draco wasn't entirely sure that it was a good trade-off, but he took it in stride as a silver lining in a terrible situation. Luckily Theodore, after receiving a short cold spell, had never mentioned the bump again and seemed to be overly generous with the compliments lately. Draco was eternally grateful for that - he didn't think he could handle being dumped on top of being cursed to bloat until he was so large that he was unable to function anymore. That thought terrified him, and he added a daily hour of library time to his already crowded schedule in which he researched various curses to find a way to undo what had been so cruelly inflicted on him.

It was Pansy who eventually snapped. Draco hadn't even been aware that she had noticed something off about him, although in hindsight he supposed that the alarming increase in late appearances to classes and meals was sure to tip anybody off. He had just settled into one of the plush settees of the common room, bearing a cheese and apple sandwich badgered from a house-elf, when the girl had stormed up before him. He glanced at her apprehensively, taking in her scowling expression and the hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Yes Pansy dear?" The enquiry was smooth, any reaction to her apparent temper hidden behind a cool mask learnt years ago at his fathers feet. His friend huffed and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Draco, it has come to my attention that you have been ill for an unreasonably long time, and have yet to go to the Hospital Wing to do anything about it. Because it has been causing you to miss class, meals, and practice sessions, it is my duty as a friend and as a housemate to ask you: what the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

The blonde blinked at her mini-rant, staring blankly at her for a second before scowling as the words sunk in. "I am not _sick_!" He protested loudly, setting his quick meal down on the table before him. "_Malfoy's _don't get sick Pansy. How many times have I told you that?"

The girl did not back down, however. Instead she leant forward, her pointed nails suddenly jabbing viciously into his collarbones as she poked him. "Is that so?" She sneered, her voice turning into a high pitched mockery of his own voice, "Well then, Mr. _Malfoy-who-doesn't-get-sick, _what do you call that round you tossed up earlier?"

Draco glared balefully, irritated at her for bringing up the less-than-stellar episode this morning that he had been so careful to hide from his housemates. Apparently he had not been careful enough. Folding his arms crossly over his chest and raising his chin, he replied in a lofty voice. "If you must know, I've been cursed. It seems to be causing me to become violently ill and bloat until I explode, but rest assured that I am taking every measure necessary to reverse it long before it reaches that point."

"It…what?" The girl suddenly was lost for words, looking terribly worried as she really looked at him for the first time since she had come in.

_ 'Good,' _Draco thought vindictively. '_That will teach you for mocking me!' _

"Who cursed you?" She finally settled on, a hardened, angry look stealing over her face. Draco appreciated her irritation on his behalf, but he knew that if he named Pomfrey she would do something rash. As much as he liked the idea, their reputation could not handle anything like that.

Instead, he made a show of inspecting his nails. "How should I know?" he hedged, his tone entirely too innocent. He was peripherally aware of his friends arms also crossing in irritation.

"Well then how do you know you were cursed?" She demanded, and he rolled his eyes at her thickness.

"Because, as I've just _told _you, _Malfoy's don't get sick_!" He stressed, turning his eyes to glare into hers once more. The annoyance that her dark eyes held very nearly caused him to flinch.

"Are you bloody kidding me!?" Pansy exploded, actually throwing her arms in the air in her frustration.

Irritated again by her reaction, the blond harrumphed. "Malfoy's do not 'kid'," he informed his perfectly manicured fingernails. A surprisingly alarming growl emanated from beside him, but he steadfastly refused to be cowed. Pansy, however, had had enough of the verbal approach.

"_Locomotor Mortis!_" The spell came as a shock, and the boy had no time to voice even a cry of surprise before he felt his limbs snapping to his body, his mouth forcibly shutting and his muscles becoming rigid. A moment of disorientation followed as he felt himself tumbling backwards, the pain of hitting the floor only saved by a "_Wingardium Leviosa,_" from his so-called friend.

His silver eyes flashed angrily as he managed to catch sight of her smirking face, but his clear rage seemed to have no effect as the mad witch began floating him out of the common room and down the hallway. She was very obviously taking him to see Madam Pomfrey, the very woman who had laid the curse on him, and, terrified at that knowledge, he began to struggle fruitlessly against the spell. He would even tell her the truth if it meant that he was not returned, practically giftwrapped, to his attacker. If Pansy was anything, however, it was a masterful hex-caster and he found himself bound firmly.

The Hospital Wing, on arrival, was completely empty. Draco couldn't decide if this was a good or bad thing: on one hand, nobody was here to witness his embarrassment. On the other, there were also no witnesses for any evil that Pomfrey decided to commit. Before he could make up his mind, Pansy was calling for the old mediwitch and then she was bustling out of her office, looking alarmed at the thought of a student in trouble.

Upon catching sight of them, the witch's eyebrows flew to her hairline. "What on earth is going on?" She queried, her gaze flipping between the two Slytherins and eventually settling on Pansy.

"Something's wrong with Draco ma'am," she responded dutifully, levitating the prone blond onto a nearby bed. "He has been ill for a while now it seems. I don't think it's anything serious, but if you could kindly diagnose him and give him a potion for it so that I can stop pretending not to notice every time he ducks out to barf, that would be highly appreciated. And don't unfreeze him!" She added as the woman raised her wand, "He's being a right pain and it's better for everyone if you just get this done."

Draco's face flamed with embarrassment as he watched Madam Pofrey's eyebrows rise even further in response to her frank words. Nevertheless, she nodded her assent. "Very well," she allowed, "I will run a diagnostic spell and administer any necessary potions. You may return to your classes, they will be resuming shortly."

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "I don't think so," she said shortly, pulling up a chair beside the bed and settling on it. Draco was quietly thankful of her presence – Madam Pomfroy couldn't do anything too terrible with a witness present right?

The old witch conceded with only a roll of her eyes as raised her wand again. Her brow furrowed slightly in minor concentration as she murmured the incantation to a diagnostic spell. Small bursts of colour appeared above Draco, flickering and changing as the spell went on, and he was struck by another sudden fear. What if she was cursing him right now, under the guise of checking his health? Once more, Pansy's spell casting was proved strong as he attempted to break out of the magical binds, his eyes darting frantically around the room.

The mediwitch must have noticed his struggle and gathered that he knew what she was up to, for her brows furrowed further in genuine consternation and her mutterings sped up, her wand movements more harsh now. A glowing ball of white light formed over Draco's belly and hovered there, all of the other light vanishing. Draco's eyes were now fixed on the white ball, dread curling in his belly as he thought of what it might do to him.

To his surprise, Pomfrey dismissed the magic, frowning worriedly. She cast several more spells in quick succession, all of which seemed to center around Draco's abdomen and all of which caused her frown to deepen even further. Draco wanted to scream and ask her what was wrong, but Pansy's bindings prevented him from doing so.

"This cannot be right," the old woman muttered to herself, getting up and making her way into her office. She came out bearing a large tub filled with some creamy paste, which she set down on the bedside table beside him as she busied herself untucking his shirt and lifting it away from his stomach. Pansy had sat up and was watching closely now, curiosity and worry warring in her dark eyes.

"What is that?" She questioned, a slightly suspicious tone taking her voice. The matron didn't answer, instead wiping off the smooth skin of Draco's abdomen with a warm, damp, cloth before beginning to rub the cream onto it. As the three of them watched, the cream lit up with a gentle glow, reflecting off two pairs of curious and one pair of shocked eyes.

"What does that mean?"

The old woman didn't immediately answer Pansy's question, instead clearing away the cream with a wave of her wand. Another wave broke the enchantments that had held Draco still, and the blond immediately sat up and clutched his shirt to himself.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" He asked, his voice high with fear as he took in the look on the woman's face.

Madam Pomfrey sank down into a chair, rubbing a hand across her eyes before staring at Draco in what appeared to be bewilderment. "I don't know how to tell you this, but… Mr. Malfoy, it appears you are pregnant."

**Next Chapter: Wait, so m!preg is not natural in this verse? Then how the hecky did Draco get pregnant? And what is he going to do about it? But the biggest question: Should he tell?**

**Angst will probably be around.**

**Stay tuned~**


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